


Deception and Disguise

by ClaudiaWrites



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Drama, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, He can't deal with feelings, James Has Issues, King Riddle, Princess Lily Catherine Evans, Romance, Slow Burn, You will get distinct Robin Hood vibes, jily, jily au, tw: descriptions of violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 68,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28612776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaudiaWrites/pseuds/ClaudiaWrites
Summary: In order to escape from her uncle, King Riddle, Princess Lily Catherine Evans flees from the royal palace. What happens when she makes acquaintances with the Marauders, the famous gang of bandits known throughout the kingdom? Will she be able to overcome her qualms and trust them with her true identity, or will it be too late?Edited from 2013 version originally posted on Fanfiction.net
Relationships: James Potter & Lily Evans Potter, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks
Comments: 241
Kudos: 115





	1. The Dispute

**Author's Note:**

> Many of you might have already read this fic that I'd initially started posting all the way back in 2013. I decided to go back and edit some parts and rework on others I was no longer satisfied with. This story was one of my first ever fics, so I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> P.S. Udates will be on Sundays & Thursdays.

**Deception and Disguise**

**Chapter 1 – The Dispute**

**Disclaimer –** Any character you recognize is JK Rowling's. But the plot and idea completely and truly belong to me.

* * *

"I already told you that I'm not going to marry him!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, uncaring that her voice might carry to the adjacent ballroom.

"Do _not_ raise your voice at me, girl. You will live to regret it," he growled at his niece. "I'm not your father; you cannot sway me with your crying and sobbing. Stop it this instant! This kind of behaviour is not becoming of a princess."

She angrily wiped away the tears streaming down her face, but it proved to be useless as fresh ones took their place immediately. "You do not have to remind me that you are not my father, uncle," she replied, trying her best to not let her voice waver. "He would have never forced me to marry against my will."

"We might never know what he would have wanted, would we? Your father is dead."

"He was your _brother_! How could you speak of him like this?!" she cried, her heart aching at the memory of her deceased father.

"Charles did not know how to run a kingdom; treating commoners like friends, allowing them inside the castle…his methods were disgraceful! The world is well rid of him."

"How _dare_ you?!” she all but yelled, wisps of silky auburn hair tumbling out of her elegant bun. "He was a good man; better than you can ever be. He treated everyone fairly. The kingdom was _happy_ under his reign. They could come to him with their problems, knowing that he would help them. But now—now the people hate us! You have driven more than half the families into poverty only to ensure that _you_ have enough gold to drown in."

She angrily walked closer to the king, who was clutching the handle of his sword so hard that his knuckles had turned white. His urge to kill the insolent girl in front of him was becoming overwhelming. If only she didn't have the ability to bring him immense riches, he would have done it a long time ago.

"I hope you know that there is no doubt in my mind that my father was _murdered_ , Your Majesty," she hissed, her voice laden with venom, "do not be mistaken that I ever believed your story; my father never trusted you, he wouldn't have left his sword with you at any cost."

"You _filthy little_ —" he raised his hand, unable to control his rage any longer. But she didn't even wince as his palm connected with her face and her skin turned an angry red. Instead, she merely glared back at her uncle with nothing but rage-filled tears shining in her emerald eyes.

She sneered, glaring. "Did I hit a nerve, uncle Riddle?"

"Princess Evans! Where _were_ you? I had been looking every—oh!" A flustered looking servant suddenly entered the hallway, staring at the scene before her with big brown eyes before realizing her place and bowing down to them dutifully. She had curly, dark brown hair that had been neatly pinned up into a bun.

"I beg your pardon, Your Majesty," she apologized fearfully, not lifting her head. "I did not know that the princess was with you."

"I do not think that is a problem, Mary. Uncle and I are done talking," the princess spoke up before Riddle could reply.

The king looked at the servant named Mary with disgust, unable to believe that his niece would know her by name. _Just like Charles,_ he thought with contempt before redirecting his glare at the impudent girl in front of him.

"The marriage will take place within a fortnight. And you _will_ marry Prince Lucius, even if I have to force you to do so. If this is delayed any further and he marries Narcissa Black instead, mark my words, princess—I will not hesitate to send you to the gallows," he whispered frostily to her. " _Now_ we're done talking."

He whirled around and walked back into the ballroom, his black cape billowing with each stride.

As soon as her uncle was out of sight, she slid down to the floor, her green gown pooling around her as she sat. Putting her head into her hands, she sobbed silently, wondering what her life had come to.

"Oh, Princess Evans," Mary immediately rushed to her side, rubbing her back and trying to console her. "Please forgive me for saying so, but I think it will be better if I take you to your chamber. His Majesty will be _furious_ if someone were to see you like this."

"I shall allow you to take me to my chamber," came the muffled reply. "But not because of what my uncle wants, but because I do not wish for anyone to think of me as weak."

Mary smiled at her. Despite her red face stained with tears and her dress rumpled around her, Princess Lily Catherine Evans looked as radiant and beautiful as ever. Her bright green eyes shone with anger and resilience, and Mary was more than acquainted with her quick wit and sharp tongue, the latter of which often got her into trouble with the king.

She was anything but a weak little girl.

"Of course not, Your Highness," Mary agreed softly, helping the princess stand up from the floor.

"Mary, how many times do I have to remind you to call me Lily?" She asked with a watery smile on her face, "We are friends. Calling me 'Your Highness' or 'Princess Evans' seems to ruin that idea, do you not agree?"

"Yes, Lily," she replied, albeit a bit hesitantly.

"Much better," Lily smiled.

"Ah! I was wondering where you had run off to after our dance," a voice spoke out behind them. The two women turned around slowly to find a tall man with sleek blonde hair and cold blue eyes standing in front of them, an ugly sneer on his otherwise handsome face. Lily took a deep, calming breath at the sight of him.

"Prince Lucius," she greeted with a curtsy, the forced politeness evident in her voice.

"Princess Lily," he bowed down in response before snapping his fingers at Mary and simply gesturing her to leave without a glance. The princess felt her blood boil at his dismissal of her only friend in the entire castle, but forced herself to keep her mouth shut. She watched sadly as Mary left without a word, her head bowed respectfully the entire way.

"If my memory is not deceiving me, Your Highness," Lily spoke after a few seconds, "then I distinctly remember asking you to call me Princess Evans. You see, I only allow those closest to me to greet me by my first name."

"I assure you, princess, that my memory is quite as sharp as yours," he replied, walking dangerously close to her. She had to control her urge of scrunching up her nose in disgust at the close proximity. "But given that I plan on marrying you in a fortnight from now, I would consider us— _quite_ close indeed."

Lily immediately stumbled away from him as he started leaning closer, trying to get the horrid image of Prince Lucius looming over her out of her mind. "I have no intentions of marrying you, Your Highness," She said, gritting her teeth. "And I think I have already made myself clear on the topic on plenty of occasions."

"Pardon me," he scoffed, his eyes flashing at her rejection. "But I do not think that your opinion on this matter is going to affect anything. His Majesty, King Riddle, has already made the arrangements for our royal wedding. The only thing that is expected of you is to attend."

"I beg your pardon?" she demanded, outraged, "I would think that my opinion on this matter is _quite_ important. Without my agreement, this marriage is not likely to take place."

"That may very well be the case," Lucius replied. "But I know that the king is going to take care of that. This marriage is, after all, an important deal between both the royal families. And your agreement is just a trivial part of that. I'm sure your uncle will go to great measures to ensure that the deal is not broken."

 _Like threatening to send me to the gallows,_ Lily thought bitterly.

"And anyway," Lucius continued, "you have nothing to be ashamed of."

Lily's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his words. "I'm unable to understand what you mean.”

"You do not have to hide it any longer, princess. I have finally understood your reason for not wanting to marry me. And I must admit, I should have figured it out quite sooner. It does seem very obvious."

"And what is it that you have concluded?" Lily asked dryly. She highly doubted that the prince would ever realize that the reasons she did not want to marry him consisted of a long list of his abhorring traits.

"Well," he drawled, stretching the word as he walked around Lily, taking in her appearance. "Despite the fact that you look quite a mess at the moment, I shall like to inform you that you do not have to consider yourself unworthy of me. I do not care if you are less handsome than I am."

Lily felt disgust roil in her gut, anger and fury at the realization that he had the nerve to think she considered herself undeserving of him clouding her senses. "I beg your pardon, that is _not_ the reason I—"

She stopped speaking abruptly, for the doors to the ballroom had suddenly opened and the guests were piling out into the hallway, ready to depart for the evening. She decided to simply glare at the man in front of her instead of shouting at him.

"There you are, Lucius! I am afraid we must leave now," A woman with long blonde hair strode over to the pair, her grey eyes scanning Lily distastefully. "Are you alright, princess? You seem very…distraught," said Elizabeth Malfoy—Lucius' mother and the Queen of Slytherin Kingdom.

Lily was suddenly very aware of the dried tear stains on her cheeks and her creased outfit. Realizing that all the royal families in the surrounding kingdoms were currently staring at her frazzled appearance, she quickly tried to make an exit. "Yes, I'm feeling fine. Pardon me for sounding rude, but I think I need to take your leave. The day has worn me off. I hope you had a pleasant evening."

"Yes, of course. I understand," Elizabeth replied, still staring at her with displeasure.

Lily quickly, yet politely, gave a curtsy and rushed off to her room, trying to get away from the view of all those self-important people. Spotting Mary on the way, she grabbed a hold of her hand and pulled her along with her. Lily was grateful when her friend did not ask any questions until they had reached the confines of her chamber.

The princess' room was large and spacious, with a balcony that overlooked the entire kingdom. She remembered going on strolls with her father through the streets of Gryffindor when she was a kid. Being a mere five-year-old at the time, she would find the simple shops on the streets fascinating. And while the king would talk to the commoners, she would try to make new friends, as everyone within the castle walls was much older than her. But it was only a matter of time before she realized that a princess was not meant to have friends who were not royalty.

"Lily? What happened?" Mary asked, watching her friend collapse on the bed with a quiet groan.

"I don't want to marry him! Is it _really_ that selfish of me if I'm thinking about my happiness?" she replied, feeling tears burning at the back of her eyes again.

"Of course not!" Mary replied immediately. "It’s your life. You should marry who you want to. You should marry someone you fall in love with—not someone who makes you unhappy."

"Then _why_ am I being forced into a marriage to Prince Lucius? He’s cruel, unfeeling and unbearably boring," Lily fumed. But there was no response. Mary simply bit her lip and sighed, unable to come up with an answer to her question. Walking over to the massive wardrobe in the room, she pulled out a comfortable blue nightgown before making her way towards Lily.

"Forgive me, Lily. But there is not much I can say about this situation," she apologized softly, feeling her heart break for her friend, "come on, let's get you cleaned up. You might feel better after a hot bath."

**********

"I-I just can't do this, Mary," Lily said, biting her lip sadly.

"I know, Lily. I know," Mary replied, continuing to brush the wet, auburn sheet of hair gently. As she tied Lily's hair into a loose braid, a few short strands escaping to frame her pale face, the princess turned around to speak again. "I just wish there was some solution to all of this. Some way I could escape this—this _cage_!"

All she got was a compassionate look in return. Lily sighed, defeated. "Sometimes, I wish I were dead. Then maybe I wouldn't have to live day after day, knowing that my father's murderer was ruling the kingdom and controlling me, while I did _nothing_ but watch helplessly."

"Don't say that!" Mary snapped, startling the princess. Then, realizing what she had done, she clamped her hands over her mouth, brown eyes aghast. "Pardon me, Your Highness! I did not mean to lose my temper. It was not my place to shout at you. I’m so so sorry—”

"Mary! It's alright!" Lily cut her off, clutching her hands to console her. "And forgive me for saying that. I didn't really mean it. It—It's just that..." she sighed, looking remorsefully out the balcony, at her father's kingdom, "sometimes, I wonder how it would be like, to be as free as a bird. To not care about your image or what people think about you. To just _live._ "

Following her line of vision, Mary stared at Gryffindor and its cobblestoned paths which were lit up by the moonlight. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she absentmindedly formed a plan.

"Maybe…maybe you could run away," she whispered after a few moments of silence.

Lily's eyes widened at her suggestion and her head snapped towards Mary, who was still looking thoughtful, as if unaware of what she had just said. "What?" Lily breathed.

"I said that maybe you should run away from here, from this castle," Mary replied, turning to look at the shocked princess. Lily couldn't believe her ears; was she _actually_ suggesting that? But the confidence in her brown eyes let her know that Mary was absolutely aware of what she was saying.

"But how? I mean, uncle Riddle would find me within a few hours. I haven't even been to these streets since I was five, Mary. How would I hide from him?!"

"Disguise," came the automatic reply. "You know my brother, Mark, yes?" She waited until Lily had nodded. "Well, he participates in the fair that takes place every year. He'll have plenty of disguises stocked up. I can find a few suitable ones for you.”

Lily felt like her head was going to burst. She hadn't set foot outside the castle since she was a child, except on the occasions when she had to visit the royal families in the neighboring kingdoms. Running away from her pitiless uncle may have sounded horribly appealing, but she knew it was not as easy as it seemed.

"I-I don't know, Mary," she finally replied.

"If you may allow, can I say something that could possibly sound too bold?" Mary asked. Lily smiled at her encouragingly and nodded her head.

Mary took a few steps forward and sat beside her, taking Lily's hands between her own. "I know what you're thinking, Lily. That suddenly leaving the castle and running away to a place you hardly even know is terrifying. And I'm not going to lie to you; it's going to be difficult. It's going to be _very_ difficult. Not to mention that you'd be taking a huge risk by angering the king and the Malfoys. But in the end, isn't all of this going to be worth it? You'll finally get to live your life, make some _real_ friends, not servants. And I'm not just talking about myself. Face it, Lily; you need more friends, everyone does. It's true that you'll have to hide from your uncle for as long as you can, but if you think that there is even the _slightest_ chance that until he finds you, you'll have a better life than you could ever have here, then—then run away, Lily."

The room fell silent then, broken only by the sounds coming from the crowded streets of Gryffindor.

"Mary, get me the clothes tomorrow," Lily finally said, grinning widely at her friend. "I'm running away." 


	2. The Contract

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter: The Marauders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this a few hours earlier because I have an exam tomorrow for which I am PANICKING, and might forget to do this later.

**Deception and Disguise**

**Chapter 2 – The Contract**

* * *

"Who are you?" The beefy guard asked. His question was directed at the tall, thin man with blonde hair standing in front of him, looking suspiciously cheerful.

"Thomas Brooks," The man answered, his blue eyes dancing.

"Brooks? Brooks who? And what business do you have here?" The guard continued in a gruff voice, and was displeased to note that the man did not even flinch at his sharp tone.

"Why, my good man," Thomas spoke in a relaxed tone, "His Majesty, King Malfoy, will be very unhappy if he were to know about all this questioning. Do you really wish for that to happen?"

"His Majesty knows riffraff like you?" The guard asked, his black eyes scrutinizing the ordinary brown breeches, white shirt and worn-out boots. Thomas merely smirked in response, the action suddenly making him look livelier and younger.

"What is your name?"

"Valdin Crabbe, Head of Guards of the Slytherin Castle." He replied proudly. "Why?"

"Well, Mr Crabbe, I was just wondering how King Malfoy will react when I tell him that you were keeping his old friend waiting outside," Thomas answered, smiling pleasantly.

Crabbe instantly paled.

"I beg your pardon, sir. I was not aware—that you—it's just that your attire was misleading. I apologize for my misbehaviour. But I must go and speak with His Majesty first, nevertheless."

"Ah, I understand your hesitancy; actually, I do not believe in showing off my riches. And I would be grateful if you do go and talk to the king. He will attest to whatever I've said."

Crabbe bowed once in response before disappearing inside the castle.

Thomas Brooks sighed loudly, wiping away a bead of perspiration that had gathered on his forehead, and tapped his feet impatiently.

"Great job," someone whispered in his ear, and Thomas turned around to find a handsome, black-haired man smiling at him. The man flicked a long strand of hair away from his grey eyes and it fell back into place gracefully. Thomas nodded at him, his eyes anxiously glancing towards the castle entrance.

"Yeah, nicely done, mate. You got the thick-head,” whispered yet another man, who was taller than the other and seemed to have a smug grin etched onto his face. This man had rather unusual, untidy dark hair that stuck up in all directions, refusing to lie flat on his head. "Now, we don't have time to fool around. Let's go, Sirius," he said to the grey-eyed man, before both of them craftily camouflaged with the shadows and entered the palace.

As Thomas stood at the entrance to the Slytherin palace, he noticed a royal mansion in the distance which he knew was the noble house of the Blacks. He averted his eyes, feeling uneasy as he noticed the filthy looks that the residents of the posh kingdom were throwing his way.

 _I hate this place_ , he thought to himself.

His head snapped back to the palace entrance and his heart sped up when he heard loud voices emanating from inside. Within minutes, the two dark-haired men had returned, but this time, both were laughing vibrantly and running for their lives.

"What are you doing? Come on, _run_!" Sirius shouted at Thomas, grabbing his hand and pulling him along with him, his speed as fast as lightning.

Instead of wrenching his arm away, Thomas followed the men without so much as a glance behind him, where the sound of footsteps was increasingly getting louder. As soon as they took a left turn, a pack of burly-looking soldiers piled onto the street where the men were standing mere seconds ago.

"Someone looted the royal treasury! That man named Brooks was lying! Where did he go? Catch him!" Crabbe's voice boomed through the street.

Thomas was running as fast as his legs could carry him, both black-haired men on his either side, running along with him.

"I think they went right. Let's go," he heard someone yell, before all the footsteps faded away from his hearing range. But despite the momentary safety, the three men didn't stop running. They eventually lost count of how many turns they had taken or where they were headed. The only thing they knew was that they had to run, and that their rib cages felt like they’d burst from the lack of oxygen.

"Stop, stop,” Thomas wheezed after a few minutes, swiftly entering a thin alley with the two men. "We've…lost them." He hunched over and supported himself by placing his hands on his knees, trying to regain control of his breathing.

"Oh, take off this wig, Remus; it feels damn weird talking to you like this," Sirius said before clutching the blue-eyed man's blonde hair and easily pulling it off to reveal short, light-brown strands that slightly curled over his forehead and ears.

"Did you manage to get anything?" Remus asked, eyeing his two friends eagerly.

"We _always_ get what we want, Remus. Show him, James," Sirius said to the messy-haired man beside him.

James grinned, reaching into the pocket of his black breeches and pulling out a bulging bag and a roll of parchment. Sirius, Remus noted, had an equally full bag.

"What is that?" He asked curiously, pointing at the parchment.

"Dunno," James replied on an exhale, catching his breath, "It was placed between all that treasure. So, I just took it."

"Well, go on, open it," Sirius said, walking behind James and looking down at the parchment in his hand. James nodded and unrolled the piece of paper before reading it silently. After a few minutes, he simply shrugged and looked up.

"Mate, what did it say?" Remus asked.

"Some strange deal between King Malfoy and King Riddle. It says that if Princess Lily Catherine Evans marries that git, Lucius, then Gryffindor gets quite a lot of gold. Seems like King Riddle is looking for more ways to make money, now that the kingdom has nothing left to satisfy his needs. As if he needs any more wealth." James answered sourly. "It's disgusting. These people making deals over something like marriage. But then again, what else is to be expected of such nobility?"

"Ha, you're telling me," Sirius said bitterly, his eyes straying to the foreboding looking mansion in the distance.

Remus placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder in understanding. Sirius Black rarely spoke of his past, and all three friends had an unspoken agreement to pretend that it did not exist. Yet, he knew that it was difficult for Sirius to just wipe everything away from his mind.

"So, Lily Evans, you say?" Remus asked, "The famed princess who never steps out?”

"Well, I for one don't even want her to," James replied in an offhand manner. "She probably feels that mere commoners are beneath her and making acquaintances with them will ruin her image. Must be just like her uncle. They probably sit together and make plans on how to drive families into poverty."

"C'mon James, don't you think that judging someone you’ve never even met is a bit unfair?" Remus asked, raising his eyebrows at his friend.

James thrust forward the parchment and pointed at the bottom of the sheet, where a signature in slightly hasty, slanted handwriting was visible. "She signed the bloody deal herself! What does that tell you about her? Selling herself for riches, isn't she?"

Remus sighed and shook his head slowly. "I guess so," he said, deciding that dropping the subject would be the best course of action. "Wait, why are you keeping that deal?" He asked as James rolled and pocketed the parchment.

"You never know," he replied with a wink. "It might prove to be useful in the future."

That seemed to have been the right thing to say; Sirius instantly cheered up and joined in on the conversation.

"I say we blackmail them and get loads of gold in return." He suggested excitedly.

"Yeah, but we'll get caught once we do." Remus pointed out wisely.

"Maybe King Riddle can just serve as our next customer. What do you say? Up for another loot, James?" Sirius asked with a smirk.

"Sirius," Remus interjected again, "Riddle won't be this easy to fool; he's extremely cunning. And if I'm right—”

"You're always right."

"—then stealing this contract is going to lead to a lot of mayhem. The Malfoys will be after our lives and so will Riddle. Don't you think it might be slightly difficult for us to enter the castle while those inhuman-looking guards are scouring the kingdom for us?"

Silence fell upon the three companions at this question, and the sound of dry leaves rustling in the wind seemed to echo in the dark alley.

"Well, my friend," James said after a fashion, "all we are in need of is brilliant planning."

With that said, he inconspicuously stepped out from their hideaway, not looking the least bit suspicious as he dug his hands into his pockets, where lay a piece of parchment that had the ability to change their lives forever.

**********

"Wake up, princess," Mary said softly, pulling aside the curtains from the large windows in Lily's bedroom. The pool of auburn hair visible from beneath the soft covers seemed to stir slightly.

"Morning, Mary," the princess muttered before sitting up slowly and rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. "And for the thousandth time, it's Lily."

"I apologize, Lily," Mary smiled good-naturedly, "you’re still going to go through with our plan, yes?"

"Of course," Lily replied confidently.

"Good," Mary beamed. Then she suddenly sobered up, making the princess frown with concern.

"What is it?" Lily asked, walking over to the brown-eyed girl.

"The Malfoys' treasury was looted last night and quite a bit of gold was taken," Mary said, frowning deeply, "but that is not the only thing they took. They—they stole the contract as well. The one about your marriage. The king is extremely furious."

Lily let go of Mary's hand and numbly stared at her for a few minutes before a huge grin spread across her red lips. "But Mary, this is _amazing_ news!" she exclaimed happily, holding the petite girl's shoulders and laughing loudly, "uncle had tricked me into signing that deal once, but I will not let him do it again. And now that there is no deal, I won't have to marry Prince Lucius. Why do you look upset, then?"

"The king has sent out guards to interrogate all the families in his anger," Mary added sadly. Lily's grin slipped from her face and she sighed, remembering that fateful day when she’d signed the wretched deal.

**********

_1 Month Ago_

Her head snapped up from the book she was reading; an old fairy tale her father used to read to her when she was a child. The moon outside was pouring light into the massive library where books ranging from ancient beliefs to the latest developments in science were stacked on ceiling-length shelves. She craned her neck to see who had entered her haven, for she had distinctly heard the sound of footsteps.

Her features rearranged themselves to form a scowl when she saw who it was.

"I knew I would find you here. You are just like Charles; wasting precious time amongst these meaningless books. It's despicable!"

"What do you want, uncle?" She asked through clenched teeth. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was hearing insults about her father.

She sucked in a deep breath to rein in her irritation as he settled himself beside her around the table. It killed her to know that the man in front of her was her father's murderer and she couldn't do anything about it.

Her emerald eyes reflected confusion when he pushed forward a piece of parchment. "Sign it," he said.

"What is this?"

"Why? Cannot read it yourself?" He snarled. She bit her lip to stop herself from snapping back a retort and pulled the parchment towards her. "I have always said that you do not deserve this royal blood. You are filth from inside; it's a disgrace."

 _Don't react, just read,_ she kept telling herself as her eyes ran over the words. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get past one line; her brain refused to process the formal words on the paper while the king's malicious voice rang in her ears.

 _Through this legal agreement,_ the parchment read, _the King of Slytherin, Abraxas Malfoy, has agreed to grant—_

"But then again, what else is to be expected when such filth is hereditary? Your father lived a worthless life, as do you."

… _King of Slytherin, Abraxas Malfoy, has agreed to grant one-fourth of his kingdom to_ —

"Even his death was shameful; killed by a wild animal. It only shows how his blood was not really royal. He could not even hunt properly. He dishonoured the family, and for years I couldn't even look up because of how ashamed his methods—"

"STOP IT!" she screamed, slamming her palms to the table as she rose suddenly, the chair toppling to the floor behind her. "Stop spewing lies about my father! He was an honest man who lived an honourable life. If you think I will sit here and listen quietly while you insult and badmouth him, you are very much mistaken, _Your Majesty_. You want me to sign this stupid piece of parchment, right?" she gestured wildly to the paper before her, picking up a quill and hastily scratching her name on it. “Here, take it. And _leave me alone!_ ”

With her face feeling like it was on fire and the blood pounding in her head, she stormed out of the library, unaware of what she’d just done.

**********

"Lily? Are you listening to me?" Mary's voice broke the princess out of her trance.

"What? I apologize Mary. I was just…lost in my thoughts.”

Mary tilted her head and a look of concern came over her features before she sighed heavily.

"Don't get me wrong, Lily, I'm really happy that the contract is lost," she said slowly, “but, I just want to warn you; you need to be aware. I'm sure that the king will do anything in his power to get that deal back. But if he doesn't, then he might go to any lengths until you agree to sign another contract."

"I know, but—”

"What I'm saying is that no matter what happens, you still have to run away. Because if he gets that deal again, then we're back to square one. But if he doesn't, then His Majesty will not rest until he has forced you to sign it again." She paused for a second and frowned, "and I think that is exactly why he wants to meet you."

"Uncle wants to meet me?" Lily groaned, eyes flying to the ceiling in frustration.

"Yes. Right now, in fact. You’d better change," Mary said, pulling out a simple red gown from Lily's wardrobe and handing it to her. The princess took the dress before heading towards the royal bath.

"Oh, Mary?" She stopped and turned around.

"Yes?"

"Any idea who’s behind the robbery?"

"The same as always," Mary replied, "The Marauders."

**********

"You asked for me, Your Majesty?" Lily walked into the throne room where the king was waiting for her. She did not even bother to curtsey or mask her displeased expression. Both the occupants in the room had long crossed the point of meaningless formalities.

"I want you to sign something for me," the king said, getting up from the throne and striding over to a table where a piece of parchment, that was all too familiar to Lily, lay innocently. The princess immediately backed away a few steps and shook her head resolutely when he pushed the deal towards her.

"Not again. I'm never signing anything you give me, again," said Lily determinedly.

"I thought you might say that," Riddle sighed, rolling up the parchment and looking a bit too nonchalant for Lily's liking. "Fortunately, I have other methods of getting you to follow my orders."

"Follow your _orders_?!" Lily scoffed, "I'm not your servant! I am the princess of Gryffindor. You cannot expect me to follow your orders."

"On the contrary, silly girl, I can. You see, despite the fact that you are a princess, you stand no chance against me. I am, after all, the _ruler_ of this kingdom. Would you like me to demonstrate what I can do?" He asked, snapping his fingers twice without waiting for her response.

Immediately, two muscular guards entered the room and bowed down to the king.

"Take the princess to her room and make sure she stays there. I want you to guard her door at all times and ensure that she doesn't get any meals. But, of course, _do_ inform me if she decides to comply with my wishes."

The guards bowed once more at his order, before advancing towards Lily, who scowled and held up her hand to stop them.

"Do not bother; I can leave on my own,” she said, turning on her heel and striding out of the room. The guards stared at each other with dumb expressions for a few seconds before following in her lead.

After the sound of footsteps faded away, King Riddle settled himself on the throne once more before snapping his fingers.

"Did you find any leads on the Marauders?" He asked the guard before him.

"N-no, Your Majesty," came the stuttering reply, "we do not know their names or what they look like, and the people of the kingdom are too loyal to them. No one is ready to reveal their identities. We have threatened to take away their houses and torture them, but they still refuse to say anything."

The king's cold, black eyes burned with malice. "Find someone. There must be _someone_ who prizes his life more than loyalty to these filthy Marauders,” he snarled.

The guard looked doubtful but nodded in fear anyway.

"I want you to arrest and bring them to me. _Alive,_ " Riddle sneered scornfully. "It is about time someone showed those bandits their right place." 


	3. Taking Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily meets two out of the four Marauders. Riddle is angry.

**Deception and Disguise**

**Chapter 3 - Taking Flight**

* * *

"Psst, Lily!" Mary called, her voice a harsh whisper in the twilight as she stared up at the brightly lit balcony. Her eyes flitted around in all directions to make sure no one was in the royal garden. Only the faint chirping of crickets greeted her ears. "Lily! Come out to the balcony!"

At receiving no response, Mary twirled a curl of brown hair around her finger nervously. She picked the tiniest pebble that she could find and tossed it onto the balcony in a smooth arc, waiting until she heard its impact against the closed door of Lily's chambers.

A few seconds later, the princess herself appeared outside.

"What—Who is it?"

"Lily! It's me, Mary!"

"Mary?" There was an audible uplift to her scratchy voice, as if she'd spoken after an age. Mary realized, with a sinking heart, that being confined to her room for over two days without food meant that she probably _had_. She craned her neck further to get a better look at Lily.

Her shiny auburn hair was whipping around her face in the slight wind, and her green eyes were wide and bright, though Mary could make out the weariness and shadows underneath them from restlessness and not having eaten for a couple of days.

She definitely looked weaker, but by no means any less beautiful.

"What are you doing down there?" Lily asked.

"Trying to save you from this hell," Mary answered vaguely, rummaging through a sack placed in front of her feet. Lily peered down curiously and tried to figure out what Mary was doing, but couldn't see anything until her friend resurfaced…with a rope.

"Why do you have a—"

"Lily, I'm going to throw this to you, and I need you to fasten it tightly to the railing, okay?" Mary cut her off, still continuing to glance around the garden warily.

Lily barely had time to react before the rope was thrown her way. She fumbled a few times before finally catching it firmly. Despite throwing a doubtful glance at Mary, Lily followed her instructions and tied the rope to the railing.

"Now what?" she whispered into the dark, though her frantic nerves told her that she knew the answer already.

"I…I need you to climb down the rope," Mary answered hesitantly.

Lily's throat went dry and she gulped before choking out a response. "I've never done anything like this. I don't know if I can—"

"Who are you talking to, Your Highness?" A gruff voice asked from the other side of the princess' bedroom door. Lily froze. "Who's in there? Open the door!"

"Lily! Hurry up," Mary urged frantically, pulling her hooded cloak more firmly around her small body.

Lily's eyes snapped back and forth between the girl below her balcony and the voices that continued to float in from the other side of the door. "Open the door, Your Highness, or we'll be forced to break it open," one of the guards threatened.

Mary watched with rising anxiousness as the voices continued to grow louder from above. Just as she was preparing herself for the worst, she saw with widened eyes as the princess took a deep breath and swung her legs over the railing. She grinned in relief.

"Be careful," she warned when Lily's grip on the rope slipped for a split second.

They barely had time to rejoice the princess's landing before the evident sound of a door being broken open reached their ears. Mary quickly grabbed a stunned Lily's hand and pulled her below the balcony's ledge so that they were not visible to anyone from above.

"Where did she go? The king will kill us all," the women heard the gruff voice say in panic. "We have to find her. _Fast_."

Lily's heart jumped to her throat in unadulterated fear when the sound of footsteps could be heard directly above them. "There is a rope here," another guard shouted. "She ran away!"

"Well, what are we waiting for? She couldn't have gotten far. Let's check in the garden," The one with the gruff voice said before the sound of running footsteps slowly faded away.

Mary immediately pushed the sack she still carried towards Lily. At the princess's confused look, she quickly explained, "It has an outfit that you could wear without being brought to attention. Here, take my cloak as well." She removed the piece of garment from around her shoulders and offered it to her friend.

Lily's eyes teared up. "Mary, I…"

"You need to go, Lily. The guards could be here at any moment," Mary cut her off, apprehensively glancing around.

Getting a hold of her emotions, Lily nodded and wrapped the cloak around her before covering her head with the hood for good measure. With a tight hug, she thanked Mary and hurried away from the garden. Without waiting for a second, the other girl entered the palace through the back entrance, only moments before a pack of guards piled into the garden from another door.

"There's no one here."

"I suppose it's time to inform the king, isn't it?" One of them asked, conveying all of their fearful thoughts.

With growing trepidation, the guards entered the study room where the king was intently staring at a piece of parchment. The reflection of the flames in the fireplace was flickering on his face, but even that was unable to bring forth any sense of warmth into his dark, cold eyes.

"May we enter, Your Majesty?"

King Riddle's head snapped towards the entrance and his eyes burned with such malice that the guard involuntarily winced. Unknown to the pack of burly-looking men, Riddle swiftly hid the parchment he was reading inside his robes. "I thought I said that I do not want to be disturbed, Goyle?"

"Actually, th-the p-princess—"

"Does she wish to speak with me?" the king eagerly asked without letting the other man finish.

 _If she agrees to sign the deal then all my problems will be solved,_ he thought inwardly, the old parchment in his robes feeling heavy. He was very well aware of how stubborn his insolent niece could be, and frankly, he had not been sure that even depriving her of food would've been successful in weakening her resolve. _But seems like it worked,_ he thought with a sneer, seemingly unaware of the guard's anxiousness.

"Sh-She ran away," Goyle stuttered quickly, breaking the king away from his delightful musings with words that seemed to echo in the eerily quiet room.

Within a flash, Riddle had his sword out and covered in blood, and one of the guards was lying on the marble floor. Dead.

All the men instinctively stepped away from the king with shocked expressions. When Riddle looked up again, his eyes seemed crueler and more pitiless than ever.

"You will find her, Goyle, if you do not wish for _this_ to be your fate," the king said calmly, as if he hadn't just committed a cold-blooded murder. Despite his less than a whisper, hiss-like voice, the wrath burning in his black eyes left no room for question in Goyle's mind that the king meant what he'd said.

With a jerky nod of his head, Goyle bowed once before turning around and moving to exit the room as quickly as he could.

"Wait," Riddle's voice halted him in his tracks, and he turned around to face the ruler of Gryffindor once more. The king was staring at the fireplace, his back turned towards the guards as he slid his sword back into its sheath. "The Malfoys should not know about this. Make sure that no posters are put up and the news of the princess's disappearance does not spread across the kingdom. You have less than a fortnight to find the girl by scouring Gryffindor, Goyle. Do whatever you have to."

After all the men finally scampered away from the study like scared rats, Riddle patted the parchment within his robes, not paying the least bit attention to the dead body lying near his feet.

"She _has_ to get married within this fortnight," He whispered into the empty room.

**********

"Hey, you, girl! Wake up," an annoyed voice broke through Lily's sleep. She opened her emerald eyes to find an old, creepy-looking man with dirty rags that covered his thin structure looming over her face with a disgruntled expression. "Get away from here. That's my wheelbarrow you're sleepin' on," he snarled.

Lily quickly sat up and smoothed out her black breeches and white shirt that Mary had given her. It had only been a matter of minutes before she'd found herself lost in the streets of Gryffindor. The truly frightful part had been finding a secluded enough place where she could change her clothes and discard the sack that would have been a dead giveaway. Still, after all that, she'd managed to locate this alleyway where there was nothing but a wheelbarrow full of flour sacks to sleep on. 

Needless to say, her night had been a rough one.

"I beg your pardon, sir," she apologized quickly and jumped off the wheelbarrow before gracefully stretching her sore limbs. Making sure that the hood was still pulled over her head to hide her vibrant hair, Lily faced the old man, who now sported a stunned expression. "I could not find anywhere else to spend the night."

"Did you just call me… _sir?_ " He sputtered disbelievingly.

"Oh!" Lily blinked, thinking she must have offended the man in some way, "What do people call you, then?" She asked distractedly as a cat near the old man's feet hissed at her menacingly.

"Hey, Filch, who's the old hag? Your girlfriend?" A voice shouted from behind them and Lily whirled around to find a tall, handsome man walking towards them. He had silky, shoulder-length hair, and as his grey eyes fell on Lily, he stopped in his tracks, mouth agape.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa—I must say this is _quite_ an improvement from your usual feline fetishes," the man smirked, walking towards Lily as he did so. Feeling self-conscious and afraid that he'd identify her, the princess backed away a few steps and pulled her cloak more firmly around her lithe body. Upon sensing her apprehension, the man backtracked. "Don't take the hag thing seriously, love. It's just that Filch here does not usually hang around with beautiful faces like yours. What's your name?" he asked charmingly.

"Li—" she started instinctively before catching herself. Thinking fast, she replied with the first name that popped into her mind; her deceased mother's name. "Eliza. My name is Eliza, but people call me Liz."

"And I'm Sirius Black. It's a pleasure to meet you, Liz," he took her hand and placed a kiss atop her knuckles, leaving Lily to blush furiously. "So, how do you know Filch here?" He asked, draping an arm across her shoulders and surprising her with his friendliness.

 _This does not seem too bad,_ she thought happily, as Sirius continued to smile at her.

But before she could answer, Filch stepped in. "I don't know this girl. She was sleeping on my wheelbarrow. Looked pretty fishy, if you ask me," he narrowed his beady eyes at Lily, which was accompanied by another hiss from the cat.

"Well, it's a good thing no one's asking you then, isn't it?" Sirius retorted, making the corner of Lily's lips twitch in response.

Filch very much looked like he wanted to snarl in anger, but accepting that he'd get nowhere by arguing, he simply turned to the cat and said, "Let's go, Mrs. Norris," and exited the alley with his wheelbarrow, leaving the two younger people alone.

"You're not from here, are you? I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have missed a beautiful face like yours," Sirius said, making Lily blush some more.

"I'm from the Ravenclaw kingdom," she answered, quick on her feet.

"I see, then what are you—oh _hell_! I need to rush," he said suddenly, for which Lily could not have been more grateful—she was not prepared to answer more questions on her background just yet. But she could not ignore her disappointment at seeing him go either. 

"I'm sorry, Liz. There is, um…something I need to take care of. I'll see you later." He waved her goodbye before turning around and leaving.

Just as Lily started wondering whether it would be safe to leave the alleyway without risking getting caught by her uncle's guards or not, her stomach grumbled, giving her a painful reminder of the fact that she'd not eaten a morsel of food for almost three days.

With reluctant and careful steps, she entered the busy streets of Gryffindor and was instantly welcomed by bright sunlight and the voices of the citizens in the bustling kingdom. Lily nervously darted her eyes around, fearing that someone would identify her. But her features quickly rearranged into a confused frown when she couldn't spot even a single poster with her face on it.

 _Surely uncle would have noticed that I'm missing by now,_ she thought.

What caught her by surprise, even more, was the fact that where she'd expected the citizens of Gryffindor to be suppressed and despondent under the reign of a ruthless monarch, they were… _alive_ —brimming with a kind of warmth and chatter that Lily had never encountered within the walls of the palace. She couldn't find a single person who looked truly distressed or troubled.

Lily took in the several shops, vendors, and groups of people lining the sides of the cobblestoned streets, aromas of all kinds filling her nose and colors of every shade blooming before her hungry eyes.

"Watch out where yeh're goin', miss," A booming voice startled Lily, and she gasped softly when she realized that she was almost about to collide with a fruit cart. Immediately, she opened her mouth to apologize to the person, but when she had to crane her neck up an unimaginable distance, the words dried up in her throat.

In front of the princess stood the largest man she'd ever seen—and it was saying something, considering the beastly-looking guards that patrolled the Gryffindor castle. The man had an immense amount of hair and a very bushy beard and mustache that almost made it impossible to spot his mouth within all that hair.

But despite his rough appearance, he had incredibly friendly black eyes which made him seem as harmless as a fly. Lily was certain she could spot a hint of amusement in them as well.

"I apologize, sir," she said, looking down at her feet as she realized that she'd been staring at him openly. Her head painfully snapped up again in surprise when the giant man started laughing.

" _Sir?_ The name's Rubeus Hagrid! Haven' seen a polite one like yeh in a long time. What's yer name?" Hagrid asked with a hearty grin, which made a small smile grow on her face as well.

"Eliza," Lily lied, trying not to feel too bad about it. "But you can call me Liz."

"'s good ter meet yeh, Liz. Where yeh from?" Hagrid asked, steering her away from the main street and into a stall where he emptied the goods from his overflowing cart.

"I just arrived from Ravenclaw," Lily replied, her eyes unintentionally straying towards the wide range of fruits in front of her. She licked her lips, trying to refrain from reaching out and taking a bite out of the juicy-looking apples.

At Hagrid's loud chuckle, Lily was forced to make eye contact with him again. A small questioning frown settled over her features when the man just smiled at her.

"Jus' take some if yeh're hungry, Liz," he suggested, reading her expression correctly. Lily blushed in embarrassment and suddenly wished that the cloak would completely cover her burning face.

"I'm presently unable to buy anything, Hagrid. I'm afraid that I do not have money to pay you with," she answered meekly.

"I didn' ask fer any, did I?" Hagrid replied with a wink before picking up an apple with his large hand and offering it to the princess. Lily looked down at the fruit, shocked, before a blinding smile spilled across her lips.

"Thank you so much," she eagerly took the apple from his hand and bit into it with a crunch. Hagrid only seemed to smile wider at the look of happiness on her face.

"Like I said before, yeh're too polite," he repeated, patting the empty spot beside him and offering Lily to sit down. She did as she was asked to with a contented smile. _Life outside the castle is definitely much better,_ she thought, taking another bite of the fruit.

"So, wha' brings yeh ter Gryffindor?" Hagrid asked once Lily was done eating. "I mean, the kingdom isn' really known fer it's ruler, yeh know?" he frowned in distaste. Lily bit her lip and looked away, unable to say anything. "Speakin' of 'im," Hagrid continued, "here come his guards. Askin' and searchin' for the Marauders again, no doubt. Why doesn' the king jus' give up? No one's gonna spill a word 'bout those boys."

But the princess had stopped listening to him as soon as the word 'guards' entered her ears.

With frantic eyes, Lily shot up from her spot next to Hagrid and quickly thanked him for everything. At the man's incessant questioning, she hurriedly explained, "I just remembered that I have something important to attend to. I promise to visit you soon, Hagrid. Goodbye!"

Lily spotted the group of guards much further down the street, and took off in the opposite direction, utterly lost and confused, but knowing she had to get away from them. She started running when she was certain it wouldn't catch their attention and turned one, then two corners, hoping to lose them.

Suddenly, Lily doubled back and noticed an adjoining street that was much narrower and wouldn't fall in plain sight due to the shadows cast over it. Without hesitation, she entered the dingy alley and peeked out by leaning slightly to make sure that she wasn't being followed. She scooted deeper inside, completely hidden from view. Releasing a sigh when she felt that she was safe, the princess allowed her heart to return to its normal pace.

Until…a voice whispered into her ear.

"What did you steal?"

Startled within an inch of her life, an inevitable scream burst from Lily's lips. Thankfully—or not so thankfully—it was instantly halted when a large hand clamped over her mouth. With wide, shocked eyes, she looked up, her pulse skittering madly in panic. Strangely enough, the sight that met her eyes served to stop her heart entirely for a beat.

The most beautiful and alluring pair of hazel eyes she'd ever seen stared back at her, the shadows in the alley unable to mask the brightness and curiosity swirling within them. Lily felt dangerously breathless, a flutter that started somewhere near her stomach growing growing _growing_ until she felt it all the way to her throat, closing off her air supply. Even in the darkness, she could make out the sharp features and unruly hair of the man towering over her.

He was handsome.

This shouldn't have rendered her dumb as it did. Lily had met her fair share of handsome men—she _was_ a princess, after all. But this man was _different_.

His appearance was nothing like those abnormally neat and immaculate princes. The amusement shining in his eyes and the confident tilt to his mouth—which was somehow both arrogant and attractive at the same time—added to his ruggedness, and all she could do for a few seconds was blink owlishly.

"Don't scream. They're still here, you know," James whispered, staring intently into a pair of large, green eyes that just wouldn't let him turn away. He let a smirk spread across his lips, trying to cover the disconcerting feelings that were bubbling inside him. "And we wouldn't want you to get caught with whatever goody you've stolen, would we?"

The words seemed to snap Lily back into herself. Her features immediately morphed from wide-eyed surprise to an indignant frown.

 _Do I look like a thief?_ She thought angrily.

Instinctively, she tried to move the man's hand away from her mouth but realized that he had her left arm pinned against the wall as well. _How had she not noticed before?_ That served to completely break her out of the lusty gaze she'd been trapped him, enough for fear to seep in and take its place.

But Lily had lived with the cruelest man known to humanity for several years, so she knew never to show her feelings on her face. Instead, her eyes hardened, and she struggled against the grip on her arm, using her free hand to push against his broad chest.

James merely smirked in amusement when the girl glared at him heatedly, her brows furrowing and nose scrunching against his palm. He could feel her trying to wriggle her arm free from his grasp, and when she failed, it only made her angrier.

"Wait," he admonished when she shoved him, his voice a sharp whisper that stopped her in surprise. James almost smiled when her brows twitched, as if uncertain about whether to relent on the glare or not. But the force of her palm against his chest relaxed a bit.

After a few moments, the pair in the shadowed street heard the sound of marching footsteps getting closer and closer. James dropped the hand from her mouth and pressed his index finger to his lips, signaling her to stay quiet. He didn't wait for her response before ducking out of the alley for a split second and joining her back immediately.

"They're gone."

Lily closed her eyes and sighed heavily, sagging against the wall as relief spread over her senses.

"You alright, miss?"

"Yes, thank you," she said, looking up at the man again. With the imminent danger of getting caught and being dragged back to the king having passed, Lily's heart started pounding a new rhythm altogether. "But I'm not a thief."

"No shame in stealing from the castle in _this_ kingdom," He shrugged, "I won't tell if you don't."

Indignance flared in her chest at his baseless assumption, but before Lily could give him a piece of her mind, the man had already walked out into the street again.

James was feeling decidedly strange. He let out a heavy exhale, flexing his fingers and shaking his hands slightly to get rid of the tingling on his palm, where his skin had come into contact with the girl's lips.

He'd never before felt that way after meeting someone for the first time, even if she _was_ beautiful and clearly had a strong spirit—if the way she'd glared at him was anything to go by. But James didn't have the time nor the motivation to entertain such disconcerting emotions, not with the kind of life he lived, not with the way danger always followed him around like a shadow.

Especially when the girl _clearly_ spelled trouble.

"Excuse me!" An irate voice yelled behind him, "Pardon me, sir! _Wait_! You with the chaotic hair! "

From sheer shock at hearing the weird plea, James halted in his tracks and turned around, a hand rising up to brush through his messy strands instinctively.

His breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened at the sight of the girl as she stalked towards him. While he'd certainly been able to discern that she was beautiful when he'd caught her rushing into the dark alley—which had been his own choice of a hideaway—he was by no means prepared for the way his heart slammed against his chest when he took in her pale skin, full red lips, well-fitted shirt, and pants that hugged her curves under the bright sunlight. And those _eyes_ —they were bolder, greener, and more radiant than James could've ever imagined possible.

"What?" He asked, his voice coming out slightly breathless. He cleared his throat, irritated with himself, "What do you want?"

Lily reeled back at his tone, a deep frown settling on her face as she huffed out a breath. "I wanted to ask how you could accuse me of stealing something. It's quite impossible to judge anyone like that. You do not even _know_ me."

James raised an eyebrow at her words. She seemed to have mastered the art of conveying her frustration while remaining verbally polite extremely well.

"But I _do_ know who you are," He said, smirking again.

Lily froze.

"What do you mean?" She subtly touched her head, making sure that her hood was still on and hadn't fallen back to reveal her auburn strands. "You know me?"

"Of course," James continued, taking enjoyment in the girl's growing uneasiness. At least he wasn't the only one feeling on edge. "With the way you were behaving near those guards, I'd say you definitely stole something. But I'm sure they weren't out here looking for such amateur thieves, you know. So, you can rest easy."

Lily was having trouble deciding whether to be relieved that this man didn't _know_ her or to be angered by the fact that he was constantly accusing her of theft. The overpowering emotion of outrage must have shown on her face because the man rolled his hazel eyes.

" _Please,_ don't be offended or anything. As I said, no one actually cares if you steal or not. Riddle's a bloody swine, he doesn't deserve a single damned penny to his name."

Lily's eyes widened at his unrestrained tongue before a surprised chuckle spilled from her lips. She couldn't have possibly agreed more with him—whoever he was—that her uncle was indeed terrible. But he certainly managed to portray her thoughts using expressive words that she as a princess wasn't really accustomed to saying or hearing.

A smile tugged on the corner of James's mouth as she laughed softly. "What's your name?" he blurted out, without really having given his brain the signal to do so.

Lily worried at her bottom lip, laughter dying down as she stared at the man. Never in her life had anyone ignited so many different emotions within her in such a short span of time. She wondered what it was about him that pushed her buttons, that really _got_ to her.

And for one, crazy, inexplicable moment, Lily had a strong urge to just give up on the ruse and offer her real name to this _complete_ stranger. Because she didn't know how she could possibly lie to him when his eyes were piercing hers like that.

Luckily, she didn't have to.

"Hey, James! I see you've met Liz here."


	4. Crossing Paths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the amazing @womeninthesequel (ILY Marieka!). Wish you a very very happy birthday once again xoxo

**Deception and Disguise**

**Chapter 4 - Crossing Paths**

* * *

"Oh," Lily breathed in surprise, turning around to find Sirius Black standing there with a grin on his face. "Hello, Sirius."

She was quite relieved that he'd interrupted her wayward thoughts and stepped in. She could hardly believe that she'd been about to take such a huge risk when barely a few hours had passed since her escape.

"Hullo again, darling," Sirius bowed gracefully, and Lily was stunned by how well the aristocratic gesture suited him. But then he straightened with a roguish smirk and she shook off the thought.

Beside him, the princess noticed, was another man she'd never met. He had light-brown hair and friendly-looking blue eyes that were glancing between her and the man behind her curiously. He gave her a small smile when he noticed her staring at him.

"Hello. My name is Eliza," She introduced herself politely, just catching herself in time and holding back the curtesy that she wanted to automatically drop into.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Remus Lupin."

Someone cleared their throat loudly, and Lily turned around with a raised eyebrow to find the dark-haired man staring down at her with a strange look. He seemed to be conflicted about something, and after a beat, his hand jumped to his hair, ruffling the strands with a quick, practiced move.

"Eliza, was it?"

"It was. And you are?"

"James," He said, and then added as an afterthought, "James Potter."

"Potter," Lily nodded, feeling ridiculously self-conscious as his eyes continued boring into her. "Thank you again, for, er—you know. But I must still implore that you reconsider your assessment of my character."

"This has hardly anything to do with your _character._ "

"How can you say that?"

"I'm just being honest."

"You're accusing me of _theft_."

"Not in a _bad_ way!"

"Wait, what's going on?" Sirius interrupted quickly, gauging Lily's reddening face correctly for the eruption of anger that it preceded, "What are you both talking about?"

"Potter here has taken it upon himself to proclaim me as a lowly thief—"

"I _never_ said lowly—"

"When I have already said that I did not steal anything!"

"Is that so, _Liz_?" James's eyes flashed in challenge now."Then you have yet to tell me why you were running away from Riddle's guards like that," he retorted, while Sirius kept darting his eyes interestedly between the two hotheads.

"James…" Remus warned softly, only to be cut off.

"Come on, Eliza. Tell us why you were hiding from those guards and prove me wrong," James continued, folding his arms across his chest and smirking.

Lily opened her mouth to contradict him immediately, but no sound came out. She bit her lip, eyes flitting from one man to the other, redness creeping over her face steadily but surely as she realized she had nothing to offer them but the truth—which was entirely out of the question.

Heart sinking, she swallowed her pride and suppressed her annoyance at seeing the arrogance on James's face, as if he already knew what she'd say.

"Alright."

"Alright what?" He prompted, dark eyebrows raising.

"Alright, I did steal something," she snapped, hoping against hope that these men wouldn't turn her in. Judging by the smug expression on Potter's face and the absolutely gleeful one on Sirius's, the princess decided that she'd made the right choice by lying.

While she may not have been at risk of being handed over to Riddle anymore, her morals were definitely at risk of being charred to crisps with every lie she uttered.

"Well, what is it?" Sirius asked excitedly, making Lily panic once more. "Show us!"

Her heart pounded as she struggled to think of something. Quick.

"The—um, this ring," she said on an exhale, gesturing towards the band of gold with emerald stones that rested on her forefinger. It was her mother's ring. "It belonged to the princess."

Remus grinned, impressed, and Sirius let out a low whistle.

But James merely continued to stare at her. Lily had a fleeting suspicion that his hazel eyes could see right through her act, but she figured she was just being paranoid. "You…you wouldn't turn me in, would you?" she finally asked, her eyes glued to James's even as she directed the question to all three of them.

"Are you kidding, Liz?" Sirius asked incredulously. "Why would _we_ turn you in? It would seem a bit unfair, considering we're the Mar—"

"How did you get into the palace?" James asked loudly, cutting off his best-mate mid-sentence. There was something off about the way she kept biting her lip, staring at him with those bright eyes, the smallest of creases appearing on her smooth skin between her brows. It was drastically different from the confidence and fire he'd encountered when they'd been alone.

"I used to work there," She finally replied, surreptitiously pulling her hood more firmly over her head. James frowned at the odd action. "But the king was very cruel and did not pay me enough, so I had to regrettably resolve to stealing this."

"Ah, sneaky liar! You said you were from Ravenclaw," Sirius said, grinning as he raised his hand to ruffle her hair. Only, he pulled back in confusion a second later. "Uh, Liz, why do you have a cloak on? And with a hood, too?"

James was glad he hadn't had to ask the question, for he was certain Eliza was rather annoyed with him already.

"Yes, it _is_ pretty odd," Remus added, squinting up at the sun. "It's actually really hot today. The hood doesn't make sense."

Lily wrung her hands nervously, before sighing and deciding to give them half the truth. "My hair has a very noticeable hue. It stands out. If I take the cloak off, I fear that the guards will instantly recognize me."

James scoffed before he could help himself. "I already told you that these guards are not looking for you. They are out here questioning about the Marauders."

"That may well be the case, Potter, but that doesn't mean I don't take the necessary precautions," Lily replied indignantly.

James narrowed his eyes. She made him feel…weird. Her short temper, mysterious personality, and strange predicament was enough to drive him insane. It was better if he stayed away from her for his own good.

"Very well, then. Have a nice time being careful. We should get going."

"James, wait!" Remus admonished with a firm voice when he noticed Lily's crestfallen expression. Once James had turned around with a resigned sigh, he directed his question to the girl. "Liz, I haven't seen you around here before. Where do you live?"

"I was the princess's permanent maid, you see, and I _did_ come from Ravenclaw, a few years ago. I have no family left, so I lived in the palace," Lily lied again. "So, I—I don't really have a home."

Lily knew she couldn't go and live at Mary's house, which had been her first option, since her family hardly had enough money to feed themselves, let alone take her in as well.

"Oh! So _that's_ why you were sleeping in the wheelbarrow," Sirius exclaimed suddenly.

James' head immediately snapped towards Eliza, who was staring at the ground with burning cheeks. He gaped at her with a shocked expression, feeling immensely guilty when he realized how rude he'd been to her. After a few moments of silence, he sighed heavily, suddenly feeling worn out.

"Come with us," he said softly.

Lily's eyes widened in surprise and she raised her head to stare at James in shock. "You want me to come with you?" she asked numbly. His response was a slight nod of his head, which was seconded by the other two men as well. "But—but it would only risk your lives! I cannot let anyone do that for me."

Potter groaned impatiently, and Lily noticed that Sirius and Remus looked amused. She frowned in confusion.

"No one here's _risking_ their life for you," James said, "In fact, I'd say you would be putting yourself in more danger by staying with us."

Lily smiled ruefully, "I believe you're mistaken; the guards will be looking for me, not you."

At that, the three men promptly burst into laughter, puzzling her to no end. Why were they being so nonsensical?

"Trust us, darling, you couldn't be more wrong," Sirius smirked.

Lily opened her mouth to argue again when she suddenly remembered that she was not the only one hiding from the guards in that filthy street. With an inquisitive expression, she turned to face James again. "Why were _you_ hiding from the guards?"

James stared into her eyes with a calculating look. For all he knew, Eliza could've been a spy for King Riddle who was looking for the Marauders. And from what she'd said, she didn't even actually live amongst the commoners. For all he knew, this short-tempered woman who refused to even take off her hood could kill them in their sleep and no one would know. And for all he knew, she could turn them in the _moment_ he gave her their identity.

But from all that he _did_ know, James didn't think she would.

He was ready to trust her. And he just hoped she wouldn't break it.

"We're the Marauders. Riddle's men are scouring the city for _us._ We were the ones who stole the contract."

Sirius grinned and Remus smiled approvingly at James for letting his guard down. But all of this went unnoticed by him, for he was too busy waiting for a reaction from the girl in front of him.

Eliza, Remus was anxious to notice, looked nothing less than stunned.

Lily felt as if the wind had been knocked straight out of her lungs. She didn't even know how to react. These men were the Marauders; the gang of bandits who were known throughout Gryffindor and all the surrounding kingdoms for their deceptiveness and stealth.

And they incidentally happened to have stolen a contract that could seal her fate.

"Hey, Liz, you alright?" Sirius asked as he noticed her troubled eyes.

"Yes," Lily said on a shaky breath, coming to her senses, "yes. I'm okay."

"I know this is probably a bit of a surprise, and we'd understand if you no longer feel safe staying with us—"

"No!" Lily shook her head, "It's not that. I suppose I'm just tired."

"Well, then, come with us to our house. You can take some rest there," Remus offered kindly. But the small smile on his face slowly faded away when he noticed her hesitancy.

"I…I'm still not sure about this."

"Why?" James snapped, feeling defensive, "What happened to 'it would only risk your lives'? Afraid already, are you?"

 _Oh, if only he knew,_ Lily thought remorsefully. Staying with the Marauders would mean creating a dangerous pack in itself. The king would be thrilled if he managed to catch all of them together; the contract, the culprits, _and_ the victim.

Her eyes flitted from one Marauder to the other worriedly. It was one thing to escape from the castle and risk bearing her uncle's wrath, but could she really endanger these men's safety in the process? Just for her own selfishness?

Her mind treacherously strayed to the benefits of the situation then. Not only would she make new friends and have a place to stay, but being with the Marauders would give her ample reason to stay away from Riddle's guards without drawing any suspicion. Plus, she'd have to come up with a highly convincing lie if she were to try and get out of the situation now.

With a heavy sigh—feeling quite selfish and sick—she made up her mind.

"Alright. I will go with you."

Sirius cheered loudly, causing many of the citizens passing by to roll their eyes at him, and Remus patted her shoulder with a smile. But Lily's eyes were trained onto James Potter, whose face betrayed the most relief, even though the man himself was clearly trying to refrain from being too transparent.

Lily doubted there was anything that his clear, honest eyes would ever be able to hide from her.

"Come on, then. Let's get a move on before the guards return," James said, turning around and letting the ghost of a smile grace his lips. He continued walking once he made sure the others were following.

"Does everyone here know that you are the Marauders?" Lily asked conversationally.

"Most of them do," Remus replied, "Except for a few exceptions, of course."

"Like who?"

"Well, there's Filch and his creepy cat, for instance," Sirius winked at her, making the princess laugh. The Marauders found themselves smiling at the merry sound.

"And all these people never tell the guards? Because I've heard that they are starved as a punishment."

"No, they are all trustworthy. Besides, we never let them go without food," Remus answered as the group rounded a corner. "If that were the case, all of us would've been dead by now, what with all the mindless rules Riddle imposes whenever it catches his fancy."

"So, you _do_ give away whatever you loot to the people! I thought it was only a rumour," Lily confessed, feeling a warm sensation settle inside her as she realized that the Marauders were genuinely good men.

"You didn't think we kept all of it to ourselves, did you?"

"Well, that is what all the royal families say."

The truth was that Lily had been forced, on more than one occasion, to join frivolous gossip about gowns and jewels with the other princesses. Only on certain nights would she be lucky enough to hear something intelligible and informative like the conditions of the kingdom. Mary wasn't much help in this situation either, as she had to stay inside the palace at all times except when she had to go give money to her family or during emergencies.

This usually left Lily to rely on whatever those shallow and narcissistic royals had to say on the matter.

"Yeah well, the royal families are a bunch of ignorant liars, aren't they?" James suddenly snapped, surprising Lily with his tone. "I bet you've been hearing Riddle and that niece of his spur all these lies day and night to you. No wonder you believe them. Much easier to accept the worst of people you don't know."

" _James_ ," Remus reproved sharply.

Lily sucked in a deep breath, trying with all her might to ignore the chasm of guilt and heaviness that was yawning open in her chest. She rarely ever lost her composure this quick, but everything about James Potter and what he said got to her surprisingly easily.

And somehow, Lily couldn't bring herself to defend her honour—or well, the _princess's_ honour. Because she knew that what he was accusing her of was very trivial compared to the actual truth.

Oh, how she wished she could've been brave enough to do something for the people. Instead, it had taken her several years to simply run away from the palace.

"Look, we're here. Let's go," James said, his voice considerably softer after Remus's reprimand. Lily looked up to find that he had a slightly contrite tilt to his mouth as he spoke to her.

She accepted his tacit apology with a small smile and decided to ignore the awkwardness now crackling in the air between them.

Sirius and Remus, who had been regarding her with sympathetic looks, broke the tension by chatting away loudly and unnecessarily as they entered their house.

Or what _they_ thought was a house—and what _looked_ like a house externally—but was actually more like a pigsty from inside.

Lily's eyes widened as she entered the two-storeyed structure, taking note of the wooden beams that supported the thoroughly stained roof, and had to immediately cover her nose to block out the stench that welcomed her. The princess was sure that these men had never seen a mop in their life, if the floor which was strewn with clothes, papers, shoes, and what looked like rotten cheese was anything to go by.

"Liz, welcome to Godric's Hollow," Sirius bellowed proudly.

"Well, we know it's a bit of a mess," Remus said with a wince, "but we've just been a bit too busy to bother with cleaning." He smiled apologetically, but Lily could do nothing but stare back at him in stunned silence.

"Where will I be sleeping?" She finally managed to find her voice, her eyes unknowingly widening in alarm as she took in the cobwebs that filled every nook and cranny of Godric's Hollow. She was highly grateful to these men for giving her shelter, but it would be _quite_ an adjustment from the sparkling clean halls and rooms she was accustomed to.

"Well, we do have a spare bedroom upstairs, but it's not been slept in since…uh, since when, James?" Sirius asked.

"Since forever," came the bored reply, "so you might find a few lizards and spiders up there." Lily felt the hairs on her arms raise at the response and stared incredulously as the men simply plopped down between all the mess and settled themselves comfortably. Sirius had just lounged back on the mattress on the floor, when Lily exhaled a determined breath.

"Pardon me, but this place is incredibly dirty and unhygienic. You could all fall sick."

"We're used to it," James smirked, boots propped up on a decrepit wooden table as he lazily leaned back on a chair.

"That does not make it safe, Potter. It could lead to infections, lung diseases, and maladies of all kinds. You are breathing in hundreds of harmful bacteria right this second."

"You seem to know quite a bit about all this."

"I read."

"A maid such as yourself?"

Her heart thumped at the slight narrowing of his eyes. She could almost slap herself for her foolishness. "My mother taught me when I was young."

James hummed, seemingly pacified for the time being.

"You get used to it soon, Liz," Sirius said with a grin, "it grows on you."

"The mould, maybe," James said, and the three men burst into simultaneous laughter.

Lily was distressed. "Do you mind if I—cleaned a bit?"

"Oh, you don't have to—" Remus started, looking a bit guilty now.

"No, please, I want to. Both as gratitude to all of you for having me here and also for my own satisfaction."

"If you insist."

Lily nodded with a smile. "Thank you. Do you mind going upstairs while I clean?"

The men simply shrugged in response and stood up from their spots before trudging up the stairs. She was horrified to notice that the stairs were coated with such a thick layer of dust that the Marauders left shoe prints on them.

"I bet you did not see this coming, did you, Mary?" Lily muttered to the empty room before sighing and heading over to the 'kitchen', which actually looked more like a dump yard for food. Gathering her courage, she wrenched open what looked like a broom closet and immediately started coughing as dust flew into her face.

Once she was sure that everything was visible again, Lily carefully rummaged through the closet and pulled out a battered-looking bucket and mop along with an unidentifiable block of mass, which she highly hoped was soap.

Contrary to popular belief about princesses, Lily _did_ know the basics of household cleaning. Despite Mary's insistence, she always helped her friend in arranging her own room by making the bed or folding her dresses. But as she stood in between a house full of men's grime and stench, she realized, for the first time in her life, exactly how much more she needed to learn.

"Right. Time to get started, Your Highness," Lily said to herself, dipping the mop into the bucket full of soap water.

**********

"I hate cleaning!" Sirius groaned, "Why are we cleaning?"

"Shut it, you twat," Remus frowned, tucking the corners of the old bedsheet under the mattress, "Liz is cleaning all our mess downstairs; the least we could do is make her room feel less like the sewers."

"She said she _wanted_ to do it," James grumbled as he passed by with a dead rat swinging by the tail from his fingertips. Remus gagged silently.

"Exactly! I didn't mind the mess."

"You both are incorrigible," He shook his head as Sirius pouted. "She's being quiet about it, but you can tell she's been through hell. Even if she doesn't want to share everything with us yet, I, for one, don't want to add to her troubles."

"And _you're_ suddenly the expert on women," Sirius sniggered. "What do you make of it, James?"

But the third Marauder was silent, a contemplative crease between his brows as he considered Remus's words. They were a bit too close to James's own line of thinking for comfort.

Eliza definitely had more to her story than she was letting on.


	5. Simmering Tempers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Lily engage in a battle of wits, constantly. Sirius and Remus are uncomfortable.

**Deception and Disguise**

**Chapter 5 - Simmering Tempers**

* * *

"What's taking her so long?" James complained from his precarious spot on the edge of the terrace where the Marauders were currently lounging. It had been a good few hours ago that they had been shooed away and at least a couple since they'd finished cleaning up the spare bedroom.

"Well, there _are_ three of us and just one of her. And the room downstairs is much larger," Remus shrugged.

James made a noncommittal sound from the back of his throat, shaking his leg impatiently. It didn't seem to bother him that one careless move could send him dropping down several feet straight into the vegetable stall on the street.

A second ticked by, and a weird thought jolted him into a sitting position. "You don't think she's stealing, do you?"

"Stop being a hypocrite, James," Remus scowled, "You know she wouldn't do that. Liz seems like a nice person."

"You can never judge a person based on how they _seem_ ," James mumbled, but lay back down again nevertheless. "We have fooled many people using the same technique, Remus. Have you forgotten?"

"No, I haven't. But your suspicions are unwarranted. She has no reason to steal from us; we're not exactly walking around with treasure buried in our pockets, you know," he paused, a smirk tugging his mouth upwards, "well, not always anyway."

"Yeah," piped in Sirius, startling the other two men. He sure was good at pretending to be asleep. "And what's gotten into you, mate? You've been acting like a prat around her. Did something happen?"

James sighed tiredly, pondering the question. "I honestly don't know," he answered with a confused shrug, "She just seems to get to me. There's something off about her. She's too…polite—and _kind_."

"So, your issue is that she's a decent human being?"

James didn't reply, lost in his own thoughts. His eyes were caught onto the Gryffindor castle in the distance, the setting sun painting the large structure in its blood orange light. The sight ran an ominous shiver down his spine, and he averted his eyes uncomfortably. He sat up again, carelessly draping his elbows over his bent knees and burying his fingers into his dark strands.

"If you're so against her," Remus spoke up, observing his troubled friend, "Then why did you ask her to come with us in the first place?"

 _Why indeed,_ James thought to himself, letting out a long, silent breath. Well, he knew that he was no monster, so it was only natural for him to feel sympathy for the girl with no place to go to, no one to turn to. James knew the feeling only too well, as did his brothers-in-arms. And Eliza had clearly been through her fair share of shite; her harrowed eyes and nervous movements having told him enough.

But was that all? Some weird sense of guilt-ridden obligation and inexplicable curiosity in everything she did spurring him on to invite trouble into their home?

"I don't know," he finally answered, unable to understand or voice his own emotions. It was rather distressing.

"Excuse me," a soft voice called from the threshold, pulling the attention of the men away from their musings. Eliza stood there uncertainly, wringing her hands before brushing them over her considerably dirtier clothes. "I'm done. I think it'll do for now. I tried preparing some supper as well."

Sirius whooped in delight, jumping onto his feet and all but bounding down the stairs after he threw an appreciative grin at her. Lily felt her heart swell at the gesture, the smile on her face only widening when Remus laughed.

"Thank you, Liz. I was _starving_."

Once he'd brushed past her and disappeared from view, Lily turned back to look at the last remaining Marauder. Potter was staring at her with an inscrutable expression on his face, his stare contemplative and open. Hard and soft. She felt like her heart was in her throat, unable to look away from how the dying rays of the sun threw the reddest of shades over his chaotic hair, the planes of his face, his too-searing eyes.

"Aren't you—don't you want to go downstairs?" Lily finally found her voice.

Her hands were tightly clasped in front of her, James observed with an indecipherable raise of his eyebrow, and her shirt had a splotch of what looked like rotten fruit on it. She smelt of sweat and soap, mixed with some faint floral fragrance that was just out of reach. His own senses rattled him, unable to accept how he could find the strange combination this heady. He wordlessly took a step forward, watching her emerald eyes widen slightly and her full red lips part in a sluggish movement.

Her damned hood was still on.

"You have dust on your face," was all he said before walking past her.

Lily inhaled sharply, head falling back against the wall as she leaned away and felt annoyance pinch her brows together. What was his problem? Why did he seem to hate her so much?

Her hand slid up to her sternum, feeling her heart settle down into a normal rhythm once more. She shook her head, feeling ridiculous, and made her way down the stairs.

**********

"Wow, Liz, this place is sparkling," Sirius yelled happily, throwing Lily a dazzling grin. She preened at the compliment, knowing very well that it was definitely not 'sparkling', but also aware of the fact that it was a sight better than what had greeted her in the afternoon. Besides, to these men, it was probably the cleanest the house had ever been.

Unfortunately, the positive reactions did not extend to her cooking skills—or the lack thereof.

"Umm, what is this?" James asked, picking up a stone-hard piece of grub that was half-burnt and staring at it with poorly concealed horror. Lily coughed in embarrassment.

"I tried to bake it from some of the good supplies I found. I suppose it was meant to be bread," she winced, shifting uncomfortably, "I apologize; I'm not too good at cooking."

There was a second of terse, awkward silence, and Lily wanted to disappear inside the ground. Remus chewed on his lip anxiously, looking from Sirius to James, hoping neither of them made an insensitive comment. He knew how picky his friends were about food, and though he did not want to hurt Eliza's feelings, the 'bread' hardly looked edible.

Finally, James sighed, a calculating smirk on his face as he turned to look at the girl. "That's rather strange, wouldn't you say?"

Green eyes locked onto his. "Pardon?"

"You say you worked at the palace before, yet you talk about books and ailments as if you were a local apothecary. You say you're not good at cooking food, something that strikes me as _incredibly_ strange because of what we know of the blasted royal families and their selection of workers. And trust me—we _know_ , because we've had to sneak into palaces more than once. So, what're you playing at, Eliza?"

Lily's heart beat madly inside her chest, eyes hardening, face burning. She looked to the other two men in the room who had expressions of guilty curiosity swimming on their faces. Her stomach dropped.

Somehow, even though she knew she was lying, there was an undercurrent of outrage brimming inside Lily at the biting accusations he was throwing at her. She savored the affront, honed it, sharpened it until she could speak with conviction.

"I know that I haven't created a very trustworthy impression of myself," she started, voice low, "and I cannot offer anything in return to your generosity apart from whatever help I can extend and a verbal promise that I mean no harm to any of you. _Yes_ , I don't know how to cook. I won't lie about that. The palace had different people for different chores and I suppose I was one of the luckier ones. That may not sit well with your suspicions about my intentions, but I've done what I could have. I'm not _playing_ at anything; I'm just—lost, confused. But that's not a burden I'd ever expect any of you to bear, it wouldn't be fair of me. If you want, I'll leave right this instant, and I'll think no worse of you for it."

"You don't have to leave," Sirius spoke up immediately, frowning as he took a step forward, "You don't—we're just unused to trusting new people."

Lily bit her lip, feeling the tightness in her chest loosen somewhat, even if it was rapidly being replaced by a thick, bitter feeling she was quickly coming to recognize as _guilt_. "Are you certain?"

"Positive," Remus offered her a placating smile, "we want you here. Right, James?"

The man in question stared at her for a beat—and Remus was terrified he'd refuse—but after what seemed like an age, he nodded, a short jerky movement which broke the tension in the room. "Right."

Lily pursed her lips, trying to smile at them, but found that she felt dangerously close to tears for some reason. She took a deep breath through her nose, trying to ground herself to the moment, reminding herself that she'd fared far worse, lived in a constant state of pain and distress for _years_. It helped somewhat.

"I think I'll retire for the night. I'm feeling tired."

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked, concerned. "It's still rather early."

"You haven't even eaten," Remus added.

"I'm certain," she said, "Not feeling very hungry anyway." Almost immediately, a loud growling noise filled the air, and her face reddened, hand instinctively rising to her stomach. Remus pinched his lips together to hide his amusement, watching as she floundered for a bit, trying to cover up her obvious fib.

But she finally settled on a deep sigh, turning around and disappearing up the stairs without further explanation. It seemed James's words had bothered her more than she'd let on.

"Hey, you know what?" Sirius clapped his hands together, bouncing on his feet, breaking the momentary stillness in the room, "this is great! Let's all go out to The Three Broomsticks, and we can ask Rosmerta to whip up something for us. It'll even allow Liz a chance to meet some other people."

"But she doesn't want to come," Remus pointed out softly.

Silence settled, heavy, in the room again.

Then, unable to bear it any longer, Sirius and Remus—as if they'd been planning it all along—turned to their third counterpart with steely glares. James was scuffing his boot against the newly cleaned floor, one hand tangled into his locks.

He gritted his teeth, feeling the stares on him without having to even look up. "Oh, alright, sod it!" he barked, grumpily striding away and upstairs, his feet making as much noise as possible so that his stupid mates knew exactly _how_ annoyed he was at them.

"It's terribly amusing when he pretends to be vexed."

"You can say that again."

**********

"The _nerve_ of that man—not a single 'thank you' or 'sorry'," Lily grumbled, taking off her hood and unbuttoning her cloak as she prepared to go to bed on an empty stomach. At least the room was cleaner than she'd expected. She'd have to thank the men in the morning again. Well, at least she'd thank two of them. "Would it have killed him to just apologize for his rudeness?" She continued, irritated in a manner she'd never experienced before. "Stupid James Potter and his _stupid_ , ridiculous hair."

She huffed out a breath as she fell back onto the mattress, the bed frame groaning loudly in protest. Lily yelped, jumping up immediately and staring at the four-poster with apprehension. It would be _just_ her luck if the thing collapsed in on itself while she was asleep.

"Eliza?" Lily heard someone knock on the door, diverting her attention. She could tell from the voice that it was Potter. With a sigh, she mentally prepared herself for another verbal spat and walked over to open the door. His fist was raised in mid-air when she saw him, as if about to knock again.

"Yes?" she asked warily, hating how her body reacted to his presence. She thought it was strange how her breath hitched every time she saw him, even though he was hell-bent on hating her.

For James, however, it felt as if all thought had flown away from his head as soon as she'd opened the door.

The green eyes that looked up at him questioningly practically glowed in the dark night; some entrancing dance of fire and life swirling in them. Her skin; radiant in the moonlight, smooth and flawless to such a degree that he was madly tempted to reach out and affirm the feel of it himself. But— _oh God_ —James knew the moment he caught sight of her hair that she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. The thick curtain of auburn waves that cascaded down her back was nothing short of a wonder in itself. Some of the strands were pushed towards one side, running down the milky-white skin of her collarbone, and—James tried not to stare—a few of them disappeared down her wrinkled shirt. He understood now why she'd kept the hood on throughout the day; she would _definitely_ stand out in a crowd, looking the way that she did. Her boots were off now, he noticed belatedly, and she stood almost a foot shorter than him.

But—he bit back a smile—her defensive stance let him know that she was anything but vulnerable.

"Yes?" Lily repeated a little louder, raising her brows, "did you want something?"

His heart thudded loudly in his chest. "I…uh," he stopped, cleared his throat, put on an expressionless mask. "I was just—I heard some noise. Is everything alright?"

Lily blinked at him, lost for a second before her cheeks warmed. "Nothing. It was just the bed."

"The bed?"

"How steady is it, do you think?"

James smirked despite himself. "Is something the matter?"

"It's incredibly noisy, isn't it? Is that normal?"

Lily could see brightness dancing in his eyes, even if the rest of him remained impressively detached. "I wouldn't know. Haven't slept on it in years."

"I see."

"Well, we won't know until someone tries," he continued, "if you've not been gravely injured by morning, we can call it safe."

"What?" Lily breathed, eyes wide. It seemed to break the control James held on himself and rich laughter spilled out of his lips, carefree and hearty in a way she hadn't had the pleasure of witnessing since she'd run into him. Her own lips twitched in response, a reluctant smile on her face. "You're teasing."

"Well spotted, Your Highness."

Eliza's entire demeanor shifted in the space of a second, body tensing and color draining from her face immediately. James frowned, utterly confused and more than a little bothered. It looked like she was barely breathing, staring at him as if she'd seen a ghost.

"What's the matter?" He asked, voice soft.

Her eyes continued roaming his face wordlessly, and James had never felt barer than he did at that second. "Nothing," she said tightly, "I think I'll sleep now."

"Oh," his voice came out more clipped than he'd meant, "the lads and I were actually wondering if you'd want to go to the local pub with us. Since you haven't, you know, eaten anything."

"Maybe some other time, Potter," she said, and James heard the dismissal in her tone as clearly as if she'd slammed the door in his face. It irked him more than he cared to admit, but he pushed down on the feeling with a clench of his jaw.

"Fine. Suit yourself."

**********

"Hey, Sirius?"

"Yeah?" replied the black-haired Marauder, turning around to face his friend who had a thoughtful look on his face. "What are you thinking?"

"Have you noticed something?" Remus answered. When Sirius raised his eyebrows, asking for elaboration, he continued, "something between James and Liz?"

"You mean something other than their mutual desire to throttle each other?"

"Yes, other than that," Remus replied with a roll of his eyes. "Because there _is_ something else there. Some sort of a _spark_ , for a lack of a better word."

"A spark that's going to take quite a long time for them to see," Sirius added in agreement, his voice taking on an uncharacteristically somber tone. Remus redirected his gaze towards him and opened his mouth to say something, when they suddenly heard the sound of footsteps angrily stomping down the stairs.

"Mate, did you talk to her?" Sirius asked as soon as James came into view.

"You can bet that's the _last_ time I try to invite her anywhere," was all he said before crossly snatching up his cloak from where it was draped over a chair. He turned to look at the two men who were sporting identical expressions of silent incredulity. " _Well_? Aren't we going to The Three Broomsticks?"

"What about Liz?" Sirius dared to ask.

"Hell, if I know."

With that said, James strode out of Godric's Hollow with nary a glance behind him, leaving his two best-mates to catch up to him. They knew better than to push him when he was like this, so they kept their earlier conversation and overflowing curiosity with themselves. At least for now.

**********

"Did you find her?" He asked in a high, hiss-like voice. His long, slender fingers ghosted over the sheath of his sword, very well aware of the fact that the movement was being trailed by a pair of wide, scared eyes.

Goyle gulped audibly. "N-no, Your Majesty," he bowed his head in shame. "Not yet."

"Not yet?" Riddle echoed in a calm voice, making the guard bristle even more. "I hope you plan on keeping your word, Goyle. It would be a real pity to kill you. You see, I _do_ hate shedding blood."

"Yes, of course, Your Majesty," Goyle agreed, scampering away fearfully when the ruthless king gestured him to do so with a flick of his hand.

"Your filthy daughter is just like you, Charles," Riddle spat at the empty room in contempt. "Always spurring trouble for me without realizing it. The vile girl thinks it's all just for gold and a deal with those thick-headed Malfoys," he gritted his teeth, whirling around and knocking over a candle-stick in his anger.

The fire went out, plunging the study room into darkness, save for the light coming from a lone candle burning on the small table next to a divan. With deliberate, long strides, the king walked over to it, picking up the wrinkled parchment that lay on the wooden surface. Dark, malicious eyes skimmed over the words, once again taking in what was already imprinted in his mind.

 _The Will of King Charles Henry Evans III,_ it read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this slightly early because the next chapter will also be up in a few hours. You'll see why ;) Lots of love to everyone!


	6. The Fateful Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what the title says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick update as promised. Happy to answer any questions or discuss theories you may have ;)

**Deception and Disguise**

**Chapter 6 - The Fateful Will**

* * *

The Will of King Charles Henry Evans III

_I, Charles Henry Evans III, King of Gryffindor, head of the royal family of the Evans', hereby hand over all assets, possessions, and holdings in my name to my lone daughter, Lily Catherine Evans, Princess of Gryffindor, at the time of my death. This will should only be brought to effect when Princess Lily crosses the eighteenth year of her life._

_In case of my untimely passing before the princess comes of age, Gryffindor shall be ruled by the only remaining royal of the bloodline, Prince Tom Riddle._ _However, the kingdom shall be handed back to Princess Lily upon her coronation on her eighteenth birthday, and lest she should die, all ownerships of the royal family and all holdings of the royal treasury shall be distributed amongst the citizens of the kingdom equally._

 _This legal testament should be disregarded, however, if Princess Lily Evans gets married into another royal family before her coronation. This restriction shall prevent the downfall of the kingdom at the wrong hands and alliances formed out of greed._ _If the princess has an early marriage, Gryffindor shall continue to be ruled by the royal heir to the throne and their line of descendants evermore._

_The validity of this will remains until Lily Catherine Evans has deceased or she passes on the ownership of the kingdom and the duty of its welfare to someone else once she comes of age._

_To my daughter – Lily, my blessings are always with you, child._

_Signed,_

_King Charles Henry Evans III_

_**********_

"I should have realized you never trusted me, Charles," Riddle sneered, tracing the will drawn up by his cousin and staring at the flickering candle flame, "It was probably the only time you were cunning enough to do something like this, leaving me with no choice but to get your filthy daughter married before she turns eighteen."

He slowly folded up the parchment and tucked it inside the pocket of his robes. "But no matter; once she is captured and married off, I will forever be rid of this burden, and _your_ kingdom will be rightfully mine once and for all. I shall not have to worry about showing this wretched will to the people as proof in the future ever again."

Riddle turned around, dropping smoothly into his high-backed armchair with a mirthless laugh. "You’ll wait and watch helplessly, Charles, as I rule Gryffindor. Our family line will finally be cleansed of fool-hearted, pathetic notions of breeding with commoners. _Disgraceful._ Gryffindor will be ruled _exactly_ the way a worthless kingdom like this deserves. But you better hope your despicable daughter returns for the marriage, for I will not hesitate to slit her throat this time around if she does not."


	7. Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily strolls around Gryffindor with the Marauders.

**Deception and Disguise**

**Chapter 7 - Conflict**

* * *

“What time is it?”

“Must be almost noon,” Remus replied idly from where he was chopping vegetables in the kitchen. “Why?”

“It’s…late.”

“For what? Anywhere you have to be?”

“No.”

Remus waited, expecting something more than a crisp negation followed by unsettling silence. The knife in his hand stilled over the half-chopped carrot, curiosity getting the better of him as he raised his eyes to look at James lounging on his preferred chair, tilting it back on its hind-legs carelessly. If it weren’t James and if Remus didn’t have utmost confidence in the man’s reflexes, he’d have told him to cut it out and ease his nerves.

“Are you going to answer me or not?”

James hummed in response, distractedly chipping away at the wooden table using his pocket knife. The blade glinted off the reflection from the sun as bright rays poured in through the lone window in the room. The Marauder jumped slightly when a hand slammed down on top of his own, making the knife clatter on the table.

Remus's blue eyes showed annoyance as they peered down at him.

"Don't do that, James," he chided, "You know Liz spent a lot of time cleaning up the house yesterday. The least we can do is make sure it stays that way."

He sighed heavily, hated that Remus was right. Raised his hands in surrender. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he stuffed the knife back inside his boots. "I forgot, sorry."

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Don’t have to. You know it already.”

“I have my suspicions.”

“And you just want me to say it, don’t you?”

All he got in response was an amused smirk. Sometimes, James wondered how Remus concealed all that wit and craftiness under a mask of impenetrable innocence. For all their devious plans, they’d never succeed in fooling anyone if it wasn’t for Remus’s trustworthy demeanor and slyness that more often than not got them where they wanted.

“Fine. Shouldn’t someone wake her? She’s been asleep a long time.”

“ _She_ has a name.”

“Eliza,” he gritted.

Remus laughed. “Honestly, you look like someone’s got a sword end pointed at you. She’s just a girl, mate, lay off a bit.” James frowned, feeling chastised. “She was exhausted last night, besides. I think it's understandable if she wakes up a little late."

James was spared from having to respond anything to that thanks to Sirius’s rather loud entrance into the house. Then again, he thought exasperatedly, fondly, everything Sirius did was distinctly loud.

“No guards around today. Highly suspicious,” said Sirius, releasing his hair from where he’d tucked the long length inside the collar of his dark shirt. “Asked around a bit—seems they’d returned at the crack of dawn, searching the streets for someone. You’d think they’d know better than to expect to find the Marauders just sleeping on the bloody roads.”

“That _is_ rather strange.”

“And get this; they were trying to be quiet. Unnoticeable. Someone ought to tell them it’s impossible for men their size and temperament before Riddle has their throats.”

James took in the information with a pinch of salt; unsure in Sirius’s easy conviction that the guards had been looking for them on the streets. They’d never resorted to such desperation—and downright _foolishness_ —in the past, no matter how dire the circumstances had been. He stared intently at his friend, mulling over the words until his head hurt. A minute passed, and he exhaled heavily, realizing they didn’t have enough insight to draw conclusions just yet.

“Well, at least that means we can take a round today, then,” James said, breaking through the pensive silence in the room.

“Right you are, mate,” Sirius agreed with a grin, “think it’ll be a good idea to ask Liz to join us as well.”

“If she decides to grace us with her presence first,” He grumbled before he could help himself.

“There she is! Good morning, Eliza!” Remus smiled, eyes looking up.

James almost toppled over in his surprise, the chair shaking uncontrollably under him at his sudden movement. He reached out a hand and quickly braced himself on the table before he could make his acquaintance with the floor.

“Good morning. I apologize for sleeping in so late.”

He turned around at the sound of her voice, chair slamming back onto its forelegs with a resounding groan. James sucked in a breath, noticing—with no small amount of blow to his gut—that she’d decided to shed some of her inhibition and come downstairs without her hood on. Her thick hair was a darker red than he remembered from last night, and it shone slightly, damp. She’d taken a bath, her eyes bright, posture more confident, smile more pronounced.

“Whoa, Liz, you’re—well, quite a looker, if I’m being honest,” Sirius said, blinking owlishly at her.

“Oh,” her smile softened to something a little shy, and she reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “thank you.”

Something bitter rattled in James’s chest at witnessing this little exchange. It was the strangest sensation he’d ever experienced, feeling an annoyance towards Sirius that resulted in more irritation with himself than anything.

“I saved a bit of bread and mashed potatoes for you,” said Remus, bringing forward the plate of food and sliding it on the table for Eliza. James watched as she made her towards him—or the food—after a polite thank you to Remus. “It’s probably gotten cold by now; hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, I’m highly grateful,” she slid into the chair opposite James, eyes latching onto his for half a second; quiet, loud, intense, fleeting. “Good morning, Potter,” she said to her bread.

James cleared his throat, looked away. “Morning.”

Two hands came slapping down on his shoulders with a sting. He threw a glare behind him at the culprit, but was soundly ignored by Sirius, who was grinning down at Eliza. “Say, Liz, what would you say to a little tour around the kingdom?”

She paused in her chewing, covered her mouth with her hand, swallowed quietly. James was a little thrown, unaccustomed—attracted—by her manners, but didn’t think it wise to comment, or even _think_ about it for more than a second. Green eyes darted between him and Sirius. “Today?”

“Today would be nice,” James nodded.

“Alright.”

His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline; her quick acquiescence not what he was expecting. “Yeah?”

She smiled; a soft, slow, refined thing that made him feel like he’d actually already toppled onto the floor and cracked his head open.

“Yes.”

**********

“So, where are we going?”

“Just around—buying things, helping people stay alive,” James grinned, shaking a worn-out pouch, bulging with coins, in front of her eyes. “You know, the usual.”

Lily bit her lip around a smile, feeling a warm, syrupy emotion make its way down inside her chest. “Alright. I’ll just go get my cloak.”

“Here, you can take mine.”

She blinked, lips parting slightly as she stared at his extended arm, draped in a long brown cloak. The feeling inside her quickly shifted to alarmed disbelief, a strange giddiness spreading through her throat, arms, the tips of her fingers as they reached out to brush lightly against the cloth. “Are you sure?”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair, hazel eyes looking away, “Sure. I have a spare. Yours must be in a state by now anyway.”

Lily’s face instantly heated, gaze shifting quickly to stare down at her soiled shirt. It was ridden with dirt, stains, and splotches even though she’d attempted to scrub some of it away the previous night. It’d been with great chagrin that she’d donned the shirt again after her bath, feeling awfully discontented.

“You’ll have to excuse this prat, Liz,” Sirius said, slinging an arm over her shoulder, “James has minimal experience in talking with ladies. You look wonderful.”

“What—I—” James frowned, glaring at them both. Lily felt unreasonably wistful for his disposition from ten seconds ago. “I just meant she’d feel more comfortable in something cleaner.”

“Thank you,” she said, accepting his offer. A quick maneuver resulted in her being thoroughly dwarfed inside the cloak, cloth extending all the way down to her ankles and sleeves dropping well past her fingers. Lily shook out her arms, knotted the ties near her collar, and pulled on the hood, which almost slipped and covered her eyes.

“Perfect fit,” Remus laughed as Sirius tugged back the hood slightly so it rested more normally on her head. She bit the inside of her cheek, unable to look away from the laughter dancing in James’s eyes.

“Splendid,” he said, a strange expression flying over his face. Lily felt her senses wholly overwhelmed in the moment; a faint, pleasant scent that was wrapped in the fabric of the cloak was settled around her, hazel eyes boring into her soul, warmth seeping into her skin. His low voice filled her head when he said, “we’ll get you some new clothes.”

It took her a beat to let the words make sense.

“Clothes? For me?”

“I think we could manage that,” Remus agreed, looking well pleased.

“I—don’t have money with me.”

“Lucky for you, you’re staying with us now,” Sirius winked.

“Oh.” That ugly guilt settling again. “I couldn’t—couldn’t possibly ask, or take—”

“You’re not,” Remus said, a finality to his polite tone that stopped her, “We’re offering happily.”

Lily wrung her hands together, took a deep breath to calm herself, and nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Great, let’s get going then.”

**********

“All okay, mate?” Sirius asked, hands stuffed inside his pockets as he regarded James with a carefully neutral expression. Frustrated hazel eyes shifted to look at him, the crease between brows clearing immediately.

“Of course. Why’d you ask?”

“You seem…not like yourself.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James scoffed, a curious tilt to his mouth as they turned a corner. A few steps ahead, Eliza and Remus strolled together, soft sounds of amicable conversation floating and disappearing into the air.

“Just what I said. Does Eliza bother you? You know you can tell me.”

“She doesn’t—well, I guess—it’s _something_ , but not exactly that.”

“I know we’ve been a little quick about accepting her, letting her stay with us. Remus and I think—well, you know what we think,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “but, mate, you _know_ we’d listen if you really had an issue. We trust your judgment.”

“And I yours,” James smiled, heart swelling with pride, “but it’s nothing of that sort. I don’t think she’s terrible or anything. I’m just having trouble figuring her out. And it’s making me slightly mental.”

Sirius was quiet for a few seconds, so James turned his head to find his friend smirking at him with open delight. Something in his stomach flipped unpleasantly. “What’s that bloody look for?”

“You’re attracted to her.”

“I beg your—I’m— _what?_ ”

Sirius was lost to a bout of tumultuous laughter, which inevitably pulled the attention of the other half of their little group. A curious look and a roll of the eyes later, they’d turned back again. James elbowed him in the ribs without remorse.

“Will you _shut_ it? Reckon you’ve gone round the bend, yeah? I just met her yesterday! I never said anything about—about being attracted to her.”

“Are you truly going to deny it?”

Face aflame with mortification, James groaned. “I cannot tolerate you right now.”

“No need to get into such a tizzy, I’m not blaming you. She’s bloody gorgeous, James. And I know what I’m talking about because—you know, _royalty_ ,” He grinned again, “She might even reciprocate the sentiments, if you’ll believe me.”

“What I _believe_ is that you need to stop talking out of your arse,” James hissed, pointedly ignoring the loud thumping of his heart, the blood rushing through his face without restraint. “Even if you _were_ right—which you aren’t—”

“You stubborn little—”

“Even _then_ , I’m not looking for any reciprocation. Yes, she’s beautiful, I have eyes. But I don’t want—anything. You know I can’t get involved. I don’t want to.”

Sirius’s smile became slightly less teasing. “Don’t think we always get an option, mate.”

“I can—”

“Oi, you pair of gossiping hens!”

They stopped in their tracks, heads swiveling to find that Lily and Remus had already turned left into a narrower street that they’d been about to cross without attention during their back and forth. With a quick wave of his hand, Remus beckoned them forward, waiting until they were close enough to talk.

"Do you reckon Madam Malkin's will do?" he asked, pointing at the store further down the street with his thumb. James shrugged casually in response, watching as Eliza turned around to examine the shop.

It was a two-storey building that looked old, yet was in fairly good condition. Quite a few people entered and exited the shop, chatting with each other. Lily smiled. It was what she’d always wanted her life to look like—normal, _simple_.

"I think we should go," she suggested.

"Well, let's go, then," Sirius announced jovially, pulling her along with him, leaving the other two men to follow.

"Oh, hello!” A cheery looking old woman with greying hair greeted them as they entered. “To what do I owe the pleasure of having the Marauders in my shop?"

"Er, we’re looking for some clothes for Eliza here," Sirius supplied, nudging Lily forward gently. She smiled politely and fidgeted as the woman's eyes appraised her. "Do you think you have something for her?"

"But of course, dear boy! I have plenty of outfits for everyone,” Malkin exclaimed, looking very much like the question had insulted her. She turned her gaze towards Lily again. "You have beautiful green eyes, darling. I'm sure you'll look stunning in some of the dresses that I have. Could you take off your hood so that I can see what colors will look good with your hair?"

"I—uh," Lily fumbled, wringing her hands nervously. She threw an anxious glance over her shoulder, unsure if letting someone outside of their little circle see her hair would risk her identity.

"It’s okay, you can trust her," James’s voice was a steady anchor. "She knows us too, doesn't she? And we’re alright."

 _Well, you’re not the prince of Gryffindor, are you?_ Lily thought snarkily.

"I'm sorry, but is there a problem?" Malkin frowned.

“Have the guards been by here?” Remus asked in lieu of an answer, voice carefully quiet, “looking for anyone besides us?”

Lily’s heart pounded painfully against her ribcage, almost unwilling—yet unbearably impatient—to hear the answer to the question that had been plaguing her since she’d stepped foot outside the castle.

But Malkin’s frown simply deepened, morphing from curiosity to confusion. “Who else would they be looking for?”

“So, nothing out of the ordinary then?”

“They’ve certainly been around more than usual,” came the grim reply, “been harassing me and my customers for information about you lads. Lost me a good few people from the storefront. But no, nothing beyond that.”

A silent breath rushed out of Lily, lungs expanding as if they’d just remembered how to breathe again. Her fingers loosened from the grip she’d held on the cloak in her tense anticipation. Almost instinctively, her eyes shifted to find hazel—no rhyme or rhythm or sense directing her action.

James blinked; head tilted imperceptibly. _See? I told you._

But Lily _didn’t_ see, not truly. Whatever was happening went entirely against everything she knew about Riddle’s desire to constantly suffocate her, keep her caged. She knew with a darkening sense of foreboding—as clearly as she knew the back of her hand—that he’d found a motive bigger than his need to torture her.

The knowledge positively shook her to her bone.

“Liz, you might want to hurry up a bit,” Remus put in kindly, “we’re running short on time.”

“Right!” Lily’s eyes widened. She pushed the hood off her head with a brush of knuckles. “Sorry.”

"Oh, my," Malkin breathed, a hand coming to rest dramatically on her chest, "you have wonderful hair, dear. Haven’t seen a face as beautiful as yours in a spell. Did you just arrive in Gryffindor?"

“I did.”

"Well, that explains it. Now, what exactly are you looking for?”

This was a highly uncomfortable experience for Lily. At the palace, she’d never had to buy her own clothes; gowns, silk dresses, jewelry, and shoes had always appeared in her wardrobe thanks to Mary and decidedly talented tailors who wove things as per her exact measurements. But now, with these men paying for her clothes—she had no clue as to how much it would cost, what she could purchase, what was acceptable…

“It’s alright, Madam, we’ll leave it up to your expertise,” said James, breaking through Lily’s uncertain thoughts. She turned to see that he was throwing the most charming of smiles to the older woman, and felt something like a fist squeezing around her heart. “Whatever she needs—we’ll cover it.”

“Come off it, James,” Malkin tittered, “I couldn’t possibly take money from you boys.”

“Oh, alright—only what we have to give for the week then,” Sirius grinned.

“You lot are too sharp for your own good,” she laughed, draping an arm around Lily’s shoulder and steering her away from the group. Once they’d reached the landing of the first floor, she smiled down at her. “Now, dearie, would you like to look at some undergarments too?”

**********

“Reckon we can find time to visit everyone today, lads?”

Remus’s eyes peered out a window, a contemplative pinch to his mouth. “We have a few hours until sunset, but I don’t think it wise to continue after dark. If the guards come back, it’ll be tough to explain why our pockets are spilling with gold.”

“Agreed,” James nodded, “let’s do as many as we can before then.”

“Been a few days since we stopped by Pettigrew’s, hasn’t it?” Sirius added, flicking dark hair away from his eyes. At one end of the store, a group of girls giggled behind their hands, gazes attached to the handsome men.

“Alright, it’s settled then—we’ll visit him before returning home.”

"You look wonderful, darling," Madam Malkin’s voice floated towards them, shortly followed by the woman herself as she returned to the room. "But I still insist that it’d look better if you took off that cloak."

Something inside James clenched painfully in anticipation when another pair of feet descended the winding staircase. Ankle-length folds of skirt swished quietly before Eliza came into view.

"I cannot," she sighed amusedly, tone indicating they’d discussed this already. A simple green robe à l'anglaise brought out the brilliant hue of her eyes, accompanying stomacher enunciating curves and rendering James absolutely speechless. Malkin had even provided her with a new pair of footwear, replacing the boots she’d been wearing earlier. In her hand, Eliza carried a stack of other garments wrapped in paper and another handbag that held her old clothes.

"And here I thought you couldn’t possibly look more beautiful," Sirius greeted her charmingly. She simply rolled her eyes with a light laugh, ignorant of the envious glances being thrown her way by other women in the store. It somehow added to James’s torment that she carried herself with an easy elegance without entirely being aware of how it enhanced her beauty.

"He's right, Liz; you look wonderful," Remus said, smiling warmly as she thanked him.

James tried to convince himself to open his mouth, say something, agree that she was indeed implausibly magnificent, that he’d thought so even when she was still wearing her dirt-ridden clothes. But the words died in his throat, unable to make it past his lips because of all the reasons he’d given Sirius earlier and more.

"Well, of course, she does. The color suits her complexion and eyes. I packed her a few more outfits of the same type as well as something more practical…”

Malkin continued to chat, but James subconsciously tuned her out, eyes unable to look at anyone—or anything—else. A flash of green, and he averted his gaze, the tips of his ears burning. He cursed himself inwardly for being so out of control, shoved his hands inside his trousers, and walked outside.

Sirius, who’d been observing his best-mate with carefully hidden interest, rolled his eyes in exasperation. Eliza was worrying at her bottom lip, eyes trained onto the place James had just been standing in, a tiny frown adorning her face. He sighed, walking over to Remus and trying to convince Malkin to take some extra coins.

He figured it would be a monumentally easier task.

**********

A few minutes, and a lot of thanking later, the Marauders and Lily were strolling down the streets, occasionally stopping by some vendor or family to give away money. Each time they did so, a warm feeling of pride spread through her limbs; a feeling that she’d all but forgotten after her father's death.

Yet, this wonderful emotion was overshadowed by the upsetting thought that Potter had clearly retreated to hating her again. It escaped her comprehension how one man could be so mercurial and unpredictable. Each time she came to think that he was warming up to her, he’d become distant and snappy the next second.

Without meaning to, her eyes latched onto his tense figure again. They made their way down the street, conversation much more stinted and sparser than it’d been at noon, and Lily was distinctly aware of the fact that he was making it a point _not_ to look at her.

The peculiar behavior frustrated her more than she cared to admit.

"'Ello, you three, I see yeh've met Liz already!" The warm, booming voice stopped Lily in her tracks, and she looked ahead to see Hagrid making his way towards them from the opposite side. All of their faces split into wide smiles.

"Hello, Hagrid," The Marauders and Lily chorused in greeting.

"Nice ter meet yeh too," he chuckled. "Out ter help people again, eh, lads?" he asked, offhandedly giving away some apples to them. Lily grinned as she bit into the fruit happily with a thank you.

"Yeah, we're almost done. Just left to go to Peter's now. What about you, Hagrid? How’s your business coming along?" James asked, pocketing his apple for later.

"Can’t complain! Ev'ryone loves me fruits an' vegetables. They're hand-grown, see?" he answered proudly. “In fact, I still have some coins left from last time. So ye lot can give my share ter others in need.”

“That’s kind of you, Hagrid.”

"And these fruits really are wonderful," Lily added. The others nodded vehemently in agreement.

"Thank yeh, Liz," He nodded, eyes gleaming brightly. "Well, I mus' be off, then. I'll see yeh lot later," He waved at them before steering his cart away.

"Who is Peter?" Lily asked curiously as they continued walking down the street.

"You'll see," Sirius smirked, tapping her on the nose. Lily grinned.

**********

"Oi, Peter! C'mon out. It's us," Sirius bellowed once they entered the beverage shop. The place had a wide assortment of drinks; tinted bottles ranging from mead to rum to wine. Rows of glasses and mugs were lined up against the wall in the dark shop. The dampness and pungent smell of alcohol in the air made Lily uneasy. She shivered slightly as a foreboding feeling overcame her.

James regarded her with a strange look.

"Sirius?" someone squeaked from deeper inside the shop. The person slowly made their way towards the middle of the room where Lily could clearly make out their face. But as soon as she did, her breath froze inside her lungs.

His short, plump structure, baby blue eyes, and flat, blonde hair immediately triggered a memory—unbidden and unwelcome—in her mind.

_1 Month Ago_

"Lily, calm down. It's just another ball," Mary soothed her as she paced her room in frustration. The princess spun around to throw a disbelieving look at her friend.

"Just another ball?!" she repeated incredulously. "Mary, you know that the Malfoys are going to start bringing up my marriage with Prince Lucius again. I cannot believe I signed that contract without reading it first!" she cried out, a few wisps of hair falling out of her complicated updo.

Mary sighed. "It was not your fault, Your Highness. You must know that. I wish I could help you in some way, but I’m helpless,” her hands reached out to hold Lily’s in a comforting grip, “and I'm truly sorry for saying this, but the ball begins in a few minutes. Come on now, go wash your face and then I'll help you get ready, okay?" she said, gentling leading the princess to the bath.

As she left the room in a daze, Lily’s mind went hazy with anger as it was wont to do every time she thought about her uncle, who probably was only keeping her alive for whatever money she could bring into his greedy hands. The princess scoffed inwardly in disgust.

She was suddenly jolted out of her thoughts as a loud crash echoed through the long corridor. She looked up to see a pair of fearful blue eyes staring back at her with uncontrolled trepidation.

"I beg your pardon, Your Highness," the blonde man immediately apologized, bowing down his head in shame, squat body shaking in terror. "I d-didn't mean to do that. I was just t-taking these wine bottles to the b-b-ballroom for the dance tonight. I didn't—”

"No, please do not apologize. It was my fault, really. I should’ve seen where I was going,” she cut him off swiftly. His eyes immediately snapped towards her in shock, and he stared at her with a gaping mouth.

"Oh, I'll just be g-going then," the man squeaked, quickly picking up the broken pieces of glass and scampering away from sight.

Lily sighed sadly; no one expected the royalty to be forgiving nowadays. With reluctant steps, the princess side-stepped the puddle of blood-red wine staining the marble floor and made her way towards the royal bath again.

_Present_

"Liz, this is Peter Pettigrew," Sirius's jolly voice brought her crashing back to the horrifying present. "You could say that he's almost like a fourth Marauder. And Peter, this is Eliza. Don't go by her looks; she's also a stealthy crook, mate." He winked.

Lily wrung her hands with growing anxiety as the man's familiar eyes squinted and he regarded her curiously, almost as if he was trying to sort out the piece of an interesting puzzle.

This man—'almost Marauder', beverage dealer—Peter Pettigrew, had met Princess Lily Catherine Evans before. And it was very, very likely that he was going to reveal her secret right now, Lily decided, as his light blue eyes widened considerably in size.


	8. Conundrum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter recognizes Lily. James and Lily fight again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> Sorry for the late update this week, but real life has gotten insane. I'll most probably have to postpone the update due on Sunday, but as a peace offering, I bring to you the longest chapter yet xx

**Deception and Disguise**

**Chapter 8 - Conundrum**

* * *

"Have—have I seen you somewhere?" Peter Pettigrew asked after what felt like an eternity.

Lily's eyes darted around, throat constricting painfully, heart refusing to slow down from its maddening pace. In the handful of seconds that the silence bought her, she couldn't, for the life of her, figure out what she'd do if the man revealed her secret then and there.

"I just can't remember," he added, squinting his watery blue eyes in an effort to get a better look at her. Lily shied away from his intrusive gaze, hoping against hope that he would _never_ remember.

"Uh, I don't think I've met you before," she said, trying to weave in as much confidence as she could into her tone. This, however, seemed like the wrong thing to do, for his eyes slowly dawned with realization, jaw practically unhinging in shock.

Lily barely stopped herself from slapping her forehead at her foolishness. Evidently, attaching a voice to the face he was already familiar with hadn't been the brightest of moves on her part. And now she'd gone and doomed herself for good.

Peter could hardly believe what he was seeing. He thought he recognized her, but—was it really even possible? As far as he knew, the princess—whatever her name was—happily resided in the Gryffindor castle, rolling around in riches and jewels. And yet, if memory served him right, here she was; in front of him, standing alongside the Marauders no less. And Peter could bet on his life that it _was_ her; hers was not a face you forgot easily. Those sharp, almond-shaped green eyes that skirted around the shop, the pearl-white skin that looked like it'd been sculpted into perfection. The posture of pride, stature, nobility. Royalty.

Yes, Peter was certain that if the hood on her head were to be pushed back, it would reveal a thick wave of mesmerizing red hair.

"Oi, Pettigrew! Snap out of it," Sirius said good-naturedly. "We know our Liz is gorgeous, but using old flirting techniques and gawking is rude." He laughed.

Remus, noticing the slight tension in the air, smiled tightly. He was about to enquire further to the cause behind the awkwardness when James beat him to it.

"You've seen her before?" he posed around a suspicious tone. Shrewd hazel eyes stared directly at Peter, who had yet to stop looking stunned.

Lily immediately snapped her head towards James in apprehension, bit her lip, wondered why he wouldn't drop the subject with an easy enough excuse like Sirius had assumed. But Potter did not even spare her a glance.

"I have…" Peter started before he noticed the princess shaking her head ever so slightly, her eyes frantic with fear. "…not," he finished, wondering what on earth she wanted him to do, what she was playing at.

He reasoned that he didn't know the whole story yet, nor did he think he had enough power to defy the royalty. He wasn't a Marauder; he prized his life too much to refuse a princess, who could have had his head hung on the noose before he could even recall her name.

"You have not?" James repeated dubiously, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Er, no."

Lily felt like she'd forgotten how to breathe and had just managed to remember in time. It was a wonder she could reign in her sigh of relief. She gratefully smiled at Peter, making sure it was inconspicuous.

"I was just confusing her with someone else," the portly man added on. She was impressed with how easily he managed to sound convincing. It was almost disturbing.

"Are you _sure_ you—"

"Drop it, James. He already said he doesn't recognize her," Remus said, frowning in confusion. It was quite unlike James to be fixated on something so inconsequential. He'd never gone on to question Peter like this before. Even if Remus himself had found the interaction slightly strange at first, he chalked it up to Eliza's apprehension surrounding her identity.

"So, Peter, what's news? Riddle making any new plans?" Sirius asked when James finally snapped his mouth shut.

Lily, on the other hand, was nothing short of glad that the subject had been changed. She looked at Peter expectantly, hoping to get some update on what was happening inside the palace in her absence.

"Nothing really. His Majesty hasn't called me for the wines lately. The last time I went was on that ball five nights ago. No one is being allowed into the palace recently. I've heard that the king is in a bad mood," Peter answered, his eyes fleeting towards Lily every now and then. He wondered whether she would return to the castle and have him sent to the gallows for saying such things.

 _Is that why she's here?_ He suddenly thought. _To infiltrate the kingdom and get information from the Marauders?_

He felt his palms go sweaty; what if she _did_ go and tell the king that he was a spy who brought news to the Marauders from the Gryffindor palace? He could only hope for a quick and easy death if that happened. He'd just started to contemplate telling the Marauders about her—and letting them handle it from that point forth—when she herself spoke up.

"Wait, you mean to say that no one knows why King Riddle is angry?"

"It's obvious, isn't it? We stole his stupid deal," James drawled. Lily bit her lip and nodded slowly, knowing very well that the king was upset for a very different reason. She didn't know how to get any more information out of Peter without being entirely obvious in her intentions. Holding her tongue seemed like the best option for now.

James noticed Eliza's troubled expression, the subtle restlessness to her hands. Frowned deeply. Something here was _very_ wrong.

"Alright then, Peter. We'll be leaving now, yeah?" Remus said, breaking the silence in the room. He clapped the man on the shoulder with a smile, dropping a pouch of coins into his hands before disappearing out the door.

"So long," Sirius waved, following him as well.

"See you later, mate," James said, turning to leave. Just as he was about to step over the threshold, he glanced behind him to see Eliza still rooted to her spot. "You coming?" He raised a brow.

"Yes, I will be there in just a minute. You go ahead," she answered without meeting his eyes. With a final suspicious glance between the two occupants of the shop, James nodded and left.

A beat passed in silence, and then Lily clasped her hands together, took a step forward.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Pettigrew. I—"

"It's Peter," he squeaked in a shell-shocked voice.

Lily smiled. "Yes, of course. Thank you so much, Peter. I cannot begin to express how grateful I am to you for not giving me away. I'm sure you must be wondering why I've lied like this. Or why I'm out here, hiding in my own kingdom. And that too with the Marauders. Is it not?"

It was, indeed.

"You don't have to tell me anything if you don't wish to, Your Highness," he said instead, bowing fearfully. He hoped against hope that this was not the calm before the storm.

"Please, Peter, call me Lily. Or Liz rather," she chuckled lightly. When the man continued to stare at her in disbelief, she sighed heavily. "I ran away from the palace. I could not stand to live in that place any longer. My uncle's a ruthless man, as you very well know, and I could not sit there and do nothing as he married me off to Prince Lucius. But what I _cannot_ understand is why he's keeping the news of my disappearance quiet."

"I-I don't know," Peter stuttered, even though it felt like she was thinking out loud.

"Well, I suppose I should leave now. The Marauders would be waiting." Her eyes shifted away to look towards the door, and Peter had the keen sense that she was debating something within herself. She turned back to him with a solemn look a second later. "Peter, I know that we hardly know each other, but I hope you will keep my secret safe. Can I trust you?"

Peter gulped. "Of course."

He breathed a sigh of relief when the princess smiled.

"I will forever be in your debt," Lily said, curtsying. She turned and left the shop, feeling much more relaxed than she'd been only moments before.

The same, however, could not be said for Peter Pettigrew.

He grabbed a bottle of rum from the rack and uncorked it, slumping heavily into a stool. The princess of Gryffindor, whom he'd met only once before, had just walked into his shop with the Marauders. She, apparently, had run away from the palace to escape her wedding. The king, on the other hand, was behaving more cruelly than ever—and to his own dismay, Peter was now privy to the reason as to why that was.

What was _he_ supposed to do then? Wasn't he supposed to tell his friends that there was a possible spy amongst them? Was he supposed to keep his promise? Was he supposed to turn the princess in to the guards so that the king would stop being so vile?

Everything was spiraling out of control and Peter did not know how to react.

So, he did the only thing he could.

He drank.

**********

"What took you so long?" James asked as soon as she stepped out of the shop. Immediately, a frown adorned her face and she turned to face him. He was glaring at her, leaning against the wall of an adjacent shop with his arms folded across his chest. The setting sun was glowing on the right side of his handsome face, making his irises seem caramel. His hair was as unruly as ever, a few strands falling mindlessly over his forehead.

"Where are Remus and Sirius?" Lily shook herself out of her daze, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. The only problem was, she did not know who she was irritated with.

"Answer my question first," James retorted, pushing off from the wall and walking towards her. His heart stirred in his chest when he took in her defensive stance; head held high and fiery temper clearly visible in her green eyes.

"You answer _mine_."

 _He_ was the one who had broken their civil patch-up from the morning, having suddenly developed an unexplained annoyance with her. Lily didn't even know what she'd done to set him off in the first place. His averted eyes, short replies, and stiff posture had driven her insane. But the worst part was how he'd literally interrogated Peter inside the shop, taking an interest in Lily's existence at a moment when she wished he really hadn't.

This man was way too arrogant and moody; she wasn't going to encourage it.

"They left to go get something for supper. I had to stay behind to wait for you."

"And I wanted to talk to Peter about Princess Lily Evans," she offered. Well, it wasn't a complete lie.

"What about her?" James persisted, falling into step with her as they made their way back to Godric's Hollow.

"None of your business."

"I beg to differ. Peter's my friend."

"It had nothing to do with you."

"It had something to do with _him_."

"Hardly. I just needed some information."

"What's your problem, Eliza?" James suddenly stopped and turned her around to face him with a grip on her arm. Hazel eyes bore into her soul with an embittered look. He inched towards her; vexation, anger, and something else that he couldn't quite figure out pulling him in. It soon became clear that neither of them was willing to be the first one to break their gaze.

"What's yours, Potter?" Lily seethed. Her heart threatened to leap out from her chest at the close proximity. Yet, she kept her voice low and collected; something she definitely did not feel right then.

"Can't you just answer _one_ question properly?" He growled.

"You," she whispered, breath tickling his lips. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she placed her hand on top of his, which was still holding onto her arm in a tight grip. Ignoring the weird sensation that shot through her—and unbeknownst to the princess, through James too—she unwrapped his fingers from her hand and stepped back. "You are my problem."

Lily took a deep breath to steady her heart, and decided it was better for her sanity to put some distance between them. God knew she'd never experienced such a strange feeling before; it scared her good and proper. With a final, stony glare, she walked away.

Closing his eyes, James counted back from ten before following Eliza at a steady pace. This was madness; half the time, his own feelings confused him to no end, and the other half, he wanted to pull out his hair at all her mystery, clipped tones, and dangerous wit. But this weird feeling; this _thing_ —whatever it was—was mocking him, for he had no idea how to handle it. And if there was one thing James Potter absolutely loathed, it was not having control over his life.

And he would be damned if some strange woman left him with unanswered questions.

"What do you mean by _I'm_ your problem?!" he asked, a little too late and a little too loud. "What did I ever do to you?"

Lily could not believe that he could be so very ignorant. She whirled, eyes flashing. "If you haven't noticed, Potter, you've barely spoken two words to me since we've met that weren't scathing remarks or accusations about my character. Then you decide to go on about your day as if there's no one more irksome than me around."

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "It's not like you've made it easier on me. You with all your secrets and refusal to answer anything straight. Hell, you're living in our house and I barely know anything _about_ you!"

"You're _impossible_!"

"And you're unbelievably frustrating!"

"I don't understand why you even invited me to stay with the three of you in the first place if you seemingly can't stand me!"

"You're right, maybe I shouldn't have! Lord knows it would have saved me all this bloody _headache_!"

Lily knew she'd had a lot more rage and irritation to vent. The words had been sitting on the tip of her tongue just a second ago, ready to be hurled into the world and ease some of the tension in her spine. But she hadn't expected the razor-sharp bitterness that greeted her from the other end instead.

She felt like her entire being had suddenly been doused in ice-cold water, temper seeping out in rivulets of hurt.

James clamped his mouth shut, brows pinching together in obvious regret as a strong pang of guilt rang throughout his limbs endlessly. He noticed her quick deflation, downcast mouth, slack shoulders, and knew— _knew_ he'd gone too far this time. And as if the fates of the world were truly toying with him, he no longer remembered what they'd even been hollering about.

He'd gone and taken out his anger with himself at her.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, and James hated himself a little more, "I didn't mean to cause any trouble or be a nuisance to you. I've been very grateful to all of you for allowing me to stay at Godric's Hollow. And it's unfair of me to expect anything beyond that. I shouldn't have lost my temper. I'll pack everything and leave as soon we reach back." She inhaled shakily and turned around, mortified at the tears that were welling up in her eyes.

" _Goddamn it_ ," James cursed under his breath, hand rubbing down his face roughly before he jogged to catch up to her. "Hey, Eliza, stop!"

When she turned around to face him, it felt quite akin to having his guts pummelled swiftly. Her usually confident eyes looked sad and unsure, brimming with moisture. Running a hand through his hair, James opened his mouth to apologize—only to be stopped by Eliza.

"Please. I don't want you to feel guilty. You owe me nothing. I've no problem with leaving. Truly," Lily said, even though she had no idea where she'd go. "You've already done so much for me; it was more than I could've asked for from strangers. And I don't want to twist the kindness you've shown me into something ugly by overstaying my welcome. So, this is for the best. I hope you won't think too badly of me—"

"Be quiet for a second, would you?" Potter huffed, surprising her with his rudeness. For a moment, Lily let a scowl fly across her face, but quickly schooled her features to appear unbothered. "I'm sorry, okay? And I'm not just saying that because I feel obliged to or something. I didn't mean what I said. I—it's—I just lost my temper too."

"Is that a frequent occurrence?"

He chuckled tightly. "Not usually. Not—until recently."

Lily nodded, sucked on her teeth. "So, it's because of me."

"Not _because_ of you. It's not your fault," he rushed to explain, almost as if he expected her to vanish from the spot in affront, "I honestly don't know how to put it into words. Just know that I'm not _trying_ to drive you insane, yeah?"

"You're failing spectacularly, Potter."

James laughed, relief bubbling through him at the small smile that graced her face. "Don't I know it." He paused for a second, a blanket of silence draping over the pair gently. "Don't leave, Eliza. I mean it."

She frowned. "I—are you certain?"

"Yes." A pause again. "Sirius and Remus would kill me, besides."

"Okay," Lily nodded, letting her smile stretch into a grin. "Thank you."

James barely contained his frustrated groan when his heart fluttered tellingly against his chest. He was no idiot; he had his suspicions regarding what this was leading to. But going down that path—was not an option. No time. No space. Dangerous.

So, with a tip of his head, James made his way back home, slowing his strides considerably to stay close to Eliza as the sun disappeared over the horizon, painting them softly aglow under the starry night.

**********

"Oh, finally! We were beginning to think that the two of you had finally snapped and murdered each other on the way," Sirius snigged when they stepped inside the house.

While James passed by him with naught but a quick smack behind the head, Lily's eyes immediately zeroed in on Sirius's propped up feet on the table. His boots were covered in mud and generously raining dirt on the wood at the moment. Noticing her pointed glare, he immediately dropped his feet and raised his hands in surrender, pouting and widening his grey eyes for good measure. "Sorry, love. Won't happen again. I promise."

With a sigh and light chuckle, Lily shook her head, untying James's cloak from around her neck. The way these Marauders could wriggle out of situations with properly wielded charm was getting to be a problem.

"Liz, I took the liberty of dropping off your clothes upstairs," Remus informed, emerging from the kitchen with flour dusting his fingers. "What took you both so long?"

"Er, we just got caught up—talking," James answered, feeling absurdly awkward. Lily's eyes glanced towards him on their own accord from where she was dusting the table with a cloth.

"Talking?" Remus repeated skeptically. James gave a curt nod in response, and he knew not to push the matter when he noticed Eliza's twin discomfort. "Okay. Anyone want supper?"

**********

"So, what happened?"

James looked up from where he was absently twirling his knife between his fingers. The blade reflected his troubled hazel eyes and the confused frown that adorned his features. "What do you mean?"

"Today. Between you and Liz?" Remus clarified, plopping down onto his mattress.

James immediately stiffened, knife coming to a standstill in his hand, blade innocent on the flat of his palm. "Nothing."

"Bollocks," Sirius accused. His eyes were closed, hands folded behind his head, a smirk playing at his lips. "Give us some credit, James. We've known you for _years_. Even though you like to pretend that you're great at hiding things, you're rather shite at it."

"Thanks."

"Oh, come on," Remus chuckled, throwing his pillow at James, who caught it with a sigh. "Talk to us. Did Eliza say something?"

The woman in question had disappeared into her room after bidding everyone a good night a few minutes ago. She'd seemed perfectly normal through supper—apart from the fact that she kept resolutely looking away every time her gaze caught hazel.

"She said a lot of things," James shrugged, stretching out his legs in front of him, "not one of which brought me any closer to figuring her out."

"She's a woman, James, not a conundrum."

A flat look. "She's _both_."

"Did you have a fight?" Sirius asked, popping an eye open.

James clicked his tongue, chagrined at being so transparent.

" _James_ …" Remus started exasperatedly.

"No, stop, it's alright. We sorted it out," he said, running a hand through his hair, "we both said things we didn't mean, but—it's fine now. I don't want to discuss it."

"It didn't _look_ fine," Sirius grumbled.

Remus pinched his lips, his silence on the matter as loudly telling as if he'd agreed with Sirius openly. While he generally appreciated and prided the bond he shared with his brothers, right now James found their unnervingly perceptive stares exhausting.

"I'm going to get some air," He said tersely, getting up and making his way upstairs to the terrace.

"Why's he got to be so bloody stubborn?" Sirius groaned once the sound of footsteps faded away. He turned onto his stomach to look at Remus, chin propped on top of his hands. "If we hadn't grown up with him, I'd have wagered that he's actually a mule."

Remus squinted. "Sometimes, Sirius, you say the strangest things."

**********

Princess Lily Catherine Evans lay on her back, staring at the canopy of her new four-poster bed. Green eyes blinked, thoughts whirring endlessly in her head, wondering what a turn her life had taken. Here she was, living with three men she’d never met before two days ago in a house—hell, in a kingdom—she barely even knew. Yet, this felt more like home to her than the Gryffindor palace ever had.

It was like being surrounded by friends instead of servants, the feeling more liberating than she could've imagined. And the Marauders—it was so _easy_ to like them; as easy as breathing.

There was Sirius, the thought of whom warmed her heart as an annoying and loveable brother's would. She had the fleeting suspicion that he observed and knew more than he let on; his sharp grey eyes always on alert. Remus was the wise and gentle one, the one whom Lily knew she could always count on if she ever had a problem. Despite his gentle demeanor, there was always a mischievous gleam in his blue eyes if paid attention to, and it only added to his witty charm.

And then, of course, there was James Potter.

She didn't know what to make of him anymore. He probably didn’t hate her as much as she’d guessed, and if he _did_ , then why hadn’t he let her go today? The man was a mystery, one that she wasn't sure she wanted to solve. He invoked such strong feelings in her. _Strong_ , and yet she never knew whether they were entirely positive or negative. But try as she might—and she _had—_ Lily couldn’t convince her mind to stop thinking about him. She’d even forced herself to worry about Riddle, about the reason behind his peculiar behavior. But like clockwork, it always strayed cruelly back to the thoughts of hazel eyes, messy black hair, tanned arms, crooked smiles…

If only she had someone to talk to.

"I miss you, mother," she whispered into the empty room, touching the gold ring on her forefinger. "And you too, father." A teardrop slowly trickled down from the corner of her eye.

Taking a steadying breath, Lily wiped away the tear and pushed away her covers, gracefully getting up from the bed. She needed some fresh air, wanted to escape the confines of the room which suddenly felt suffocatingly small. She wrenched open the door and turned left, her journey to the terrace short under her bare feet.

**********

The sound of rustling paper felt absurdly loud in the quiet surroundings. A pair of hazel eyes squinted over the words on the parchment, trying to make out the letters with the help of the moon's soft glow. With an impatient sigh, he ran his hands through his hair, unable to understand why he was reading it for the umpteenth time when the contract itself had been imprinted into his mind already.

And yet, each time he peered down at the parchment, crinkled from being over-read too many times, his eyes seemed to immediately zero in on that single name.

Lily Catherine Evans.

Why was it, that ever since he stole the deal, she refused to leave his mind? Why couldn't he stop thinking about this person that he’d never even met? He could only assume what sort of a princess she must be to allow her pitiless uncle to devour the kingdom like this. Yet, how come he’d never seen her? How come _no one_ ever saw her?

Thoughts of the princess drove him out of his mind almost as much as—

"Oh! I didn’t know someone was here already. Sorry."

James's head snapped up at the sound of the voice. He turned around to see her figure quietly retreating from the terrace, brilliant dark hair swaying slightly in the wind. He placed the contract on the floor beside him immediately; Lily Evans wiped clear from his head.

"Eliza, wait. You don't have to go," he called, halting her in her tracks.

Biting her lip indecisively, Lily turned back around and locked eyes on the man sitting a few feet away from her. She took in his long limbs, the broad shoulders, the brightness of his eyes. Slowly, she made her way across the terrace, feeling the cool breeze kissing her face as she came to stand beside him.

James had his arms draped over his knees as he regarded the girl before him. As she was wont to do—he’d come to realize in the past two days—she was anxiously biting her bottom lip again, staring at him with an inscrutable expression. His own lips curved into a small half-smile.

"Can't sleep?" He asked, patting the empty spot beside him and beckoning her to sit down. After a beat of hesitation, she acquiesced.

"No, not really." Her piercing gaze fell on him. "And you?"

"Sleep doesn't come very easily to me," He shrugged. She simply nodded.

"May I ask you something?"

James snorted. "You're way too polite," he said, making an attractive blush appear on her face, and trying his damndest to not look too pleased. "Go ahead."

"Do you hate me?" Lily finally managed to get out on a whisper, face heating even more. She barely managed to stop herself from looking away when James’s eyes widened considerably in shock.

He felt gob-smacked. Whatever he’d been expecting her to ask, it’d definitely not been _that._ "Um, wow, _no,_ I—I don’t hate you. No," he shook his head earnestly, turning to face the silhouette of the Gryffindor castle that was visible in the distance with a pensive look on his face. After a while, he glanced back at her. "You know, I never meant to make you feel that way. I guess I'm just having some trouble trusting you."

James half-expected her to reveal her fiery temper and stomp out on their teetering thread of civility right there at this confession. But she simply sighed, surprising him.

"Well, then I suppose I’ll just have to try harder to gain your trust, won't I, Potter?" Lily shrugged, letting her gaze stray towards the palace as well. She immediately looked away; guilt churning thick and oily in the pit of her stomach.

 _Trust_ indeed.

"I guess so," James whispered.

The pair let the peaceful silence envelop them, both lost in their own musings, though unbeknownst to either of them, their thoughts never strayed very far from each other.

"You know, when I was younger, my mother would always sing me to sleep," Lily reminisced softly, letting her eyes crinkle at the corners in nostalgia. James watched her silently, captivated by her, by her calming presence at the moment, her chest rising and falling slowly with each breath. "And father would tell me stories that still fascinate me."

"You parents…?" James let the question trail off.

"Mother died when I was three, and then father followed her two years later," she turned to look at him, and James stayed silent when he noticed the sadness in her eyes. "They were great people, and I miss them, of course. But sometimes, I think they were so in love; they must be happy to be with each other now." She smiled to push back the tears burning in her eyes. "The pain of losing them does not go away, but it helps."

He watched, transfixed, as she tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear and stared off into the distance, reliving some memory—which James could only guess was unpleasant, if the fading smile on her face was anything to go by.

The words started to pour out of his mouth before he’d given the signal to his brain.

"I don't remember anything about my parents, Eliza," he said, and Lily started at the sound of his voice; she’d just been cursing that fateful day when her uncle was crowned king. "The only thing I know is that I was abandoned on the street when I was merely two years old. An old lady—Ms. Bathilda Bagshot—found me there. She used to take in children like me into her home, and that's where I met Remus."

Lily breathed deeply, heart aching at the thought. "What about Sirius?"

James frowned and fidgeted uncomfortably. "We didn't meet him until after Ms. Bagshot's death." He paused, and Lily knew that that was all he was willing to say on the matter. The princess respected his decision, for she guessed that it was not his story to share at all.

“Oh.”

"King Charles Evans was the ruler back then," he continued, drawing in her attention once more. "And he used to help Ms. Bagshot with the money. In fact, he used to help everyone." Lily knew this, of course, and she felt herself smile proudly at his words. "Ms. Bagshot was a good lady, you know; she never treated us like orphans. We were like her family. Unfortunately, she died a couple of years later from sickness. And then we had nowhere to go." James heaved a sigh, running his fingers over the creases on the contract beside him. "Riddle had taken over the kingdom by that time; killing people and taking away their homes became an everyday occurrence for him." His hazel eyes darkened. "So, I chose this life with Sirius and Remus by my side. It's much better to do something than just sit around and watch, Eliza. If only other people were like that."

Lily's heart dropped to her stomach at his words and she looked down shamefully, trying not to show how much his diatribe affected her. That was when her gaze caught onto the parchment that lay under James's hand. His jaw was clenched and his eyes stared ahead as he subconsciously crumpled it.

"What’s that?" Lily breathed.

The sound of her speaking seemed to pull James away from his trance. He turned his head to look where she was staring, and smiled contemptuously. He picked up the parchment again, straightening out the crinkles as much as possible. "This," he said with a scoff, "is King Riddle's notorious deal with King Malfoy."

"The—the one about the princess's marriage?" Lily asked for confirmation, her voice shaky. Luckily, James did not notice.

"The same," he nodded, "you'd think she would've done something to stop her beloved uncle if she was a good person, wouldn't you?"

"I don't know," Lily whispered softly. "Maybe it's not as easy for her as you think."

James peered at the girl beside him curiously. Her words held a deeper meaning, eyes filled with regret and sadness—reactions that boggled his mind. He remembered that Eliza had worked for the princess, was probably privy to more information about her than anyone else he knew. He wanted to ask her more, _know_ more, but the words wouldn’t come.

"I—uh," Lily fumbled as she noticed Potter staring at her. "I mean, the princess wasn’t very fond of the king when I used to work at the palace. I don’t think she wishes any harm to the kingdom."

"Well, she hasn't tried to stop _him_ from harming us either," James grumbled, unconvinced. "This deal is proof of that. Did you know that she signed it herself?"

"So I've heard,” Lily said with a heavy heart. "Why do you still keep it with yourself? Why not burn it?" She asked, gesturing towards the deal in his hand. As far as she was concerned, getting rid of it would at least put an end to one of her numerous worries.

"Leverage, bribe, blackmail. You never know when it might come in handy." James smiled wryly, rolling up the parchment and stuffing it in his pocket, away from Lily's view. She barely reigned in her defeated sigh.

"I think I should be turning in for the night," she stood up, brushing away the dust from the skirt of her dress. James followed her movements with his eyes, feeling strangely lonely as she started to walk away. "Good night, Potter."

"James."

"I beg your pardon?" She turned around from her spot near the threshold, regarding the Marauder confusedly.

James stared right back. He didn't know what it was about her, but she was alluring. He knew he was taking a risk—a huge risk, regardless of what his friends tried to tell him—and that he might regret it later. He could decide not to trust her, but somehow, he knew it was too late. "James. Just call me James, okay?"

Lily felt a genuine smile spread across her face at his words. She understood what he wanted to say; that he was trusting her, and it was a truce of sorts. And despite trying to convince herself that it didn't mean much, she couldn't help but be immensely delighted. "Then you just call me Liz."

"Okay, Liz," he said, letting a crooked grin spread across his face. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, James," she replied softly, turning around and leaving the terrace, all the while unable to wipe the smile from her face.


	9. Skirting Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily and James navigate the grounds of their new-found dynamic.

**Deception and Disguise**

**Chapter 9 – Skirting Around**

* * *

When she awoke the next morning, Lily was in high spirits.

It took her a second to recall why that was exactly. The awareness of the fact that one of the three companions she shared a roof with did not hate her—even sort of _trusted_ her now—made it difficult to wipe the little smile tugging on her lips as she bathed, dressed, and rearranged her bedsheets. She reminded herself that she'd have to find time to clean her old set of clothes, lest she wanted to run out of things to wear again.

She pushed open the door to her room, stepping out into the warm sunlight and letting her thoughts wander again.

Potter—no, _James_ —had decided to finally put his guard down around her, and it meant more to Lily than he'd probably ever know. She wholly intended to treasure that trust he'd extended. It wasn't that the irony of the situation was lost on her—she knew it would be futile to say that she'd be completely honest with him, because she _couldn't_. As much as she didn't want to, Lily would have to continue lying to James. And to Sirius and Remus, too.

Gut twisting, smile slipping, her steps slowed as she made her way downstairs. None of the Marauders deserved the platter full of dishonesty she kept serving them day and night. And yet, if they were to find out the truth, they'd instantly hate her, unable to see beyond her relationship to Riddle, beyond the lies and deceit she had spewed since the moment they'd met.

If their feelings for the royalty were any indication, Lily knew they'd think her no better than the coward she actually felt like. She'd lose her first and only friends outside the castle.

 _No_ , she decided adamantly, selfishly. _I cannot let that happen._

She took a deep, steadying breath. Looked up.

And immediately lost all the air in her lungs.

With the bright rays of the sun streaming in from the window to the left, his damp hair looked like the darkest night drenched in silvery moonlight. His arms flexed, fingers wrapped around the low-hanging wooden beam on the roof, and he pulled himself up, _up,_ legs lifting clear off the ground. Lily felt unbearably breathless, eyes trained brazenly on his bare back as the muscles shifted and strained under golden skin. His broad shoulders narrowed towards his waist, loose pants hanging off his hips. He grunted softly—the sound prompting heat to rise up her neck—and lowered himself back to the ground after a few seconds. A drop of sweat made its treacherous path down his neck, over spine and skin, and muscles…

"Oh," Lily breathed, feeling like she wanted to soak in the bath again.

She only realized she'd made the sound when James immediately spun around, a hand reaching up to tangle in his hair—before he thought better of it and dropped it back.

"Er, good morning," his voice was low.

"Good morning," she squeaked, clearing her throat and tearing her eyes away from his very _shirtless,_ very well-sculpted chest. Her heart pounded.

"Sorry about this," she heard him say, a distinct tinge of amusement lacing his tone, "I didn't think you'd be awake anytime soon."

"I'm generally not in the habit of sleeping in late," Lily mumbled, willing her face to cool down, "yesterday was an anomaly."

A hum in response. She dared to look up at him again.

James was shuffling his feet a bit awkwardly now, hazel eyes darting between her and the staircase she was blocking. Pink dusted the tops of his cheeks, strands of hair sticking to his forehead in perspiration. "I, um, may I—?"

"Oh, of course, I apologize," she said quickly, shifting aside so that he could move past her—to take a bath and put a rest to her impure thoughts, hopefully.

He'd almost started climbing the stairs when he turned to her again. Lily watched as a myriad of expressions flew over his face, clearly conflicted about something. "You…look nice," he said finally, frowning in a manner that conveyed he was annoyed with himself.

She didn't have a chance to utter a single word before he had disappeared from view.

**********

James took his own sweet time getting ready.

After that little _encounter_ with Liz, he was feeling a good bit more flustered than he was comfortable with. While seeing her obvious embarrassment at catching him half-naked had amused him at first, one thought had led to another, his eyes caught onto the red staining her face and neck and chest…and suddenly, the situation wasn't _quite_ as funny anymore.

Why had Sirius and Remus disappeared off to distribute money to the remaining citizens when—for _once_ —he wished they'd been around to make light of the tension in the room?

James knew that he and Liz were still on shaky grounds, learning to navigate the lines of their newfound dynamic. He didn't know if they were actual friends, since they shared a very different type of—er, relationship—than the one she seemed to share with the other two Marauders. He didn't even know how to _behave_ around her, if his idiotic blundering earlier had been any indication. He couldn't very well continue to show aloofness or indifference anymore. But he couldn't—he just _couldn't_ —treat her the same way he did Sirius and Remus.

All his internal monologue had dropped him back into the same state he'd started in: clueless.

"Ugh, get a _hold_ of yourself, Potter," James berated himself, wiping his wet hair and tugging on a pair of trousers.

He was just buttoning up his shirt when there was a loud bang on the bathroom door, threatening to take it off its hinges.

"Come out, James! You've been in there _forever_ ," yelled Sirius from the other side.

"I'm done!" he announced, throwing the door open with a glare, "no need to break the bloody house down."

"I'll do as I please if you decide to _die_ inside when I need to relieve my bladder," Sirius growled, brushing past and slamming the door behind him.

"You're right; I should've just used my magical powers to know that you wanted to piss," James shot back in a childish urge to have the last word. He received a few curses in response but otherwise felt rather good about being the wittier one as he walked away with a smirk.

"If the bathroom door has broken, _I'm_ not fixing it," Remus greeted him as he stepped into their living area.

"Sirius tried, but he's not as strong as he'd hoped."

"Well, that's both a relief and terrifying. Remind me not to leave the fighting up to him next time we draw up a plan."

While they shared hearty chuckles at the expense of their third counterpart, James's eyes swept around the room, looking for a flash of red or green.

"Looking for Liz?" Remus intoned carefully.

"What?" James yelped, hand jumping to his hair. "No, I was just—"

"She's in the kitchen," he laughed, "trying to bake bread."

" _Again_?" His eyes automatically shifted to the ajar door.

" _Trying_."

A sharp nod. "I see."

"Perhaps you should go help."

"What?" He said again, "why me?"

"Yesterday was my kitchen duty; today's yours. So, it'll save us a whole lot of time and ingredients if you didn't have to start from scratch again after she's done."

"I hate that you have an answer for everything."

"Move along, Potter. I'm starving."

James made a show of rolling his eyes and walking away, Remus's amused chuckles following him all the way to the little kitchen.

**********

A soft smile etched onto her face, flour dusting her cheeks and hands, Lily moved around the small space.

The soft hum on her lips was from a song she remembered her mother singing to her when Lily had been a child. The actual words eluded her memory, but she recalled the tune with nothing but fondness, feeling lighter than she had in days, in _years._

Save for the little run-in she'd had with James that morning while he was exercising—the memory of which she pointedly pushed away every time it threatened to resurface—her day was passing by swimmingly well. Remus and Sirius had returned to Godric's Hollow a few minutes ago, regaling her with descriptions of all the families they'd visited. Lily had listened happily, her wonder at finding out more about Gryffindor and its people not having dwindled in the slightest during the past few days.

Then Sirius had grumbled something about James hoarding the bathroom for way too long and disappeared upstairs.

"I want to try my hand at baking again," Lily had voiced to Remus. She'd tried not to flush under the wide-eyed stare that he'd promptly schooled into polite interest a second later.

"Of course. It's James's turn to cook today, but he'll probably be a while, so you can get started."

And so, here she was again, trying to tame the blend of flour and water into a semblance of dough. Green eyes frowned down at the grotesque, water-laden substance with a grimace. God, she really shouldn't have bothered with it. Especially not without supervision. At least at the palace, Mary could have helped her out.

Here, all she could do was sigh morosely as the mixture squelched between her fingers.

"Bit too dry, don't you think?"

Lily immediately jumped at the voice, almost dropping the glob of dough in surprise. She looked up to find a pair of hazel eyes regarding her with no little amount of amusement. He was clad in a clean, black shirt, ends tucked into brown breeches. The top two buttons near his collar were undone, and Lily couldn't remember if he'd always worn his shirts that way or if she'd suddenly become more perceptive of everything about him.

Mortifyingly, a blush graced her cheeks at the mere sight of James, and she felt inexplicably jittery. She wished her hands were clean so that she could push back the strands of hair that were tickling her face, the sensation suddenly bothersome against her hyper-aware skin.

"Hello, P—James."

"Hello, _again_ ," he smiled politely, though it did nothing for Lily's quickening pulse when she noticed the mischievous gleam in his eyes. "See that you've gotten yourself in quite the predicament here."

"Yes, well," she shrugged, glad that he didn't mention her embarrassing state from an hour ago. "I think I misjudged how much water I'd need."

"You _think_?"

Lily frowned petulantly at his loud bark of laughter. Suppressing a delirious urge to whack the mass of dough into his face, she instead resorted to glare at him. "We've already been over this. The kitchen and I don't get along."

James smirked as he regarded her defiant stare. Liz's cheeks were lightly dusted with flour, graceful fingers coated with a thick layer of sticky dough and red hair falling out of the updo she'd managed to knot to the top of her head. But despite the indignant flush on her face, her eyes sparkled brightly. It hit James like a gut punch yet again—she was breathtakingly attractive.

"I gathered that," he smiled, pushing the thoughts away from his mind. He strode forward until he could lean his elbows on the counter directly across from her. "Do you want some help?" he found himself asking.

"You want to help _me_?" Lily blurted, feeling nothing short of astounded.

"You don't have to sound so surprised," he rolled his eyes, "I'm just offering."

"I—no—yes—yes, of course, you're right. I'm sorry."

James tried to hold in his laughter when Liz sighed and swiped her forehead with the back of her hand, still somehow managing to get more flour on her face. "Alright, there?"

"I suppose I'm just unused to this," she grinned ruefully, moving aside to make space for James to join her. "But yes, please be my guest. I give up." She pulled away the excess dough stuck to her fingers, making a face when they landed in the viscous mixture noisily.

"There's just too much water," James laughed again, "we need more flour."

"More flour. Right," Lily nodded her head dutifully before turning around and scooping up some of the white powder in her hand. With a satisfied hum, she deposited it on top of the gloop and looked to James for further instructions.

"Uh, more," he said, eyeing the far-from-enough mound of flour that had been able to fit into Liz's smaller palm.

"Okay," she nodded again, a small crease between her brows. After adding another fistful of flour to the bowl, she turned to look at him again.

"More," he sighed, "in fact, don't hold yourself back. We have a lot of water to make up for."

Face expressing her quickly mounting impatience, she dumped another handful. "Is that enough?"

A thoughtful pause. And then, "some more."

"This is outrageous!" Lily huffed angrily, a scowl adorning her features as she forcefully buried both her hands in the sack of flour and turned around to ask him if _that_ was enough. Unfortunately, at the same moment, James had decided to fetch the flour himself so as to not irritate her, since her face had already gone dangerously red.

Inevitably, they slammed into each other.

" _Ow_!" Lily gasped in pain, the collision causing her to drop the fistfuls of flour on the nearest available surface—James's neck and shirt. Puffs of powder filled the air, and Lily gingerly rubbed her aching shoulder. She grimaced upon noticing that some strands of red hair had gotten stuck to her fingers. However, when her eyes finally fell on the Marauder next to her, she realized this was no time to be fussing over herself.

"Oh, _pardon_ me, James! I didn't realize that you were right behind me!" Instinctively, she reached out to brush the flour off from his shirt, but of course, that only made it worse. Her face blanched. "Dear God, your shirt is ruined! I just _knew_ I was no good at these things! And now I've made such a mess of the food, and my hair, and your clothes, and—" she stopped, feeling vibrations of deep laughter underneath her fingertips. She looked up at James, and blinked. "uh, are you all right?"

But he so obviously wasn't.

Head thrown back, one hand braced on the wall behind him, and tears welling in his eyes, rich laughter poured out of him. Lily watched, stunned, as he guffawed nonsensically.

"Your face!" James sputtered, "Oh bloody _hell_! You should have seen your face!"

An affronted scoff escaped her lips before she could reign it in, but Lily didn't know how else to react beyond that.

Quickly—before she'd had the chance to brace herself—the sound of his laughter had penetrated her senses, like warm sunshine blooming on grass fields, brightening her from the inside, filling her with such intense emotion that she could hardly do anything but smile in return.

It instantly morphed into quiet snickers, and had soon dissolved into raucous laughter that mixed with James's, getting louder and louder, one sound tumbling into another. Her eyes caught on to the flour still smeared across his neck, and stitches formed on her sides. The ridiculousness of the situation coupled with the giddy warmth bubbling inside her toppled her over the edge, and Lily let herself fall, fall, _fall._

"Shut UP!" someone hissed loudly, and the pair turned to look at Sirius popping his head inside the kitchen. They were still panting, faces red, when he said, "the royal guards are here."

**********

A lone finger brushed across her palm, feather-light. She looked up into concerned hazel eyes.

"You alright?" James whispered. He peered down at the girl beside him. Her shoulders were almost hunched, body stiff with tension as she pressed herself into the wall tightly. It looked as if she'd rather disappear if she had the chance. "Liz, it's okay. Nothing's going to happen."

Outside, the sound of voices. Loud. Interrogative.

She tried to nod, but the movement was unsteady and came off as a jerk of the head. They were hidden from view, bodies pressed against the wall beside the kitchen threshold. Lily knew they couldn't possibly see her unless they entered the kitchen—but fear clouded her every rational thought until she couldn't breathe.

"I know it must feel alarming, but this is normal. They'll just ask a few questions, threaten us with a sentence if we were to be found guilty of harboring the Marauders, and then leave," James explained in a low voice, trying to ease the look of utter terror from her face, "I always make myself scare when they come around—three men our age, together in a house, rings too much like the Marauders for them to pass off. With two, it's easier to fool them. Remus usually pretends he has a wife who's gone out for errands."

"They don't—search the house?" she asked, and James was glad to hear her voice, terrified though she sounded.

"Sometimes they do, but it's rare," he added hurriedly upon seeing her eyes widen. "Very rare, in fact. They've visited all the houses one time too many to bother. We were ill-prepared this time. Usually, we get news of their arrival a few hours before they show up. Don't know what Riddle's up to…"

Lost as he became to his musings, James didn't spot the way Lily deflated even more, one hand rising to wrap lightly around her neck, the other arm draping over her stomach in a poor attempt to experience some semblance of comfort. She could feel her own heart thundering against her wrist, and wondered how much longer she could bear to jump through the hurdles her uncle planted in the path before she inevitably stumbled and failed.

"Oi, they've left," Sirius was suddenly in the doorway, almost scaring Lily out of her skin. "Everything alright back here?"

James turned to look at her again, the frown between his brows deepening. But aloud, he said, "yes, all okay."

They made their way outside the kitchen then; Lily hanging behind the others, unable to walk faster out of fear of collapsing on her shaky limbs. She'd come close— _so_ close yet again—to having this bubble of warmth and friendliness she'd built burst in front of her eyes. Increasingly, she was coming to realize that the longer she stayed around these men, the longer they continued to burrow a place into her heart, the worse her lies would sting, the _worse_ it would hurt in the end.

And yet, she was a coward; a fly caught in the sticky web spun out of her own lies.

"What happened to you both?" Remus's amused snort brought her crashing back into the moment. "Did something explode in the kitchen?"

"Never mind that," James waved off with a roll of his eyes, "what did the guards want?"

"Oh, you know, the same old."

"They looked tenser than usual though," Sirius said, and Lily clutched the skirts of her dress. "Like they were expecting someone to pop out and run them through with a sword in broad daylight."

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "just a feeling. I could be wrong."

They continued to discuss the strangeness amongst themselves, one theory wilder than the next—"maybe they've heard that the Marauders have taken to the streets in their thirst for royal blood"—but Lily couldn't stomach any of it anymore. With a quickly mumbled excuse that she wouldn't even be able to recall later, her feet carried her away, up the stairs and into the bathroom.

Blood pounded in her ears, a dry sob tearing through her lungs, throat, lips, filling the empty room with the battered sound.

Her gut rolled unpleasantly, and then she was hunching over the toilet, emptying the contents of her stomach as tears rolled down her face.


	10. The Three Broomsticks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Marauders and Lily go to a pub. Guess which one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update this week. I had to write this chapter from scratch because it didn't exist in the original version. But I'm glad about the way it's turned out! Lots of Jily tension for you to enjoy in this one (I certainly did).

**Deception and Disguise**

**Chapter 10 – The Three Broomsticks**

* * *

Someone was knocking on the door.

Lily shifted slightly, a frown between her brows as the noise penetrated through the haze of sleep. Her mouth felt parched as sand, throat burning slightly as she swallowed to get rid of the dryness. The sound had subsided, and she was lulled back into slumber.

Almost immediately, there was another rap of knuckles against wood, this time hurried, more persistent.

"Eliza?" The voice was loud and worried. She recognized it as James's. The thought alone was enough to send her springing into a sitting position, disoriented eyes latching onto the door in confusion. "Liz, are you in there? Is everything okay?!"

Finally having recalled that _she_ was Eliza—though she still didn't remember how she'd ended up sleeping—Lily rushed out of bed and swung the door open. The sky outside was already painted in the dark hues of twilight when she blinked up at James's bemused face.

"Evening, James. What's the matter? You look frazzled."

She realized this was the wrong thing to ask when his eyes narrowed and mouth twisted, one arm coming to rest against the doorframe as he glared at her. Lily wished she could pay more attention to his evident anger rather than the way his shirt—this one a deep maroon in color—stretched over his shoulders.

Perhaps the excessive sleep had clouded her brain.

"What's the _matter_?" He mimicked, and she made herself look into his eyes again, "we've been trying—for _so_ long to—Remus has been up here at _least_ thrice, and I—you even missed lunch! What were you _doing_?"

"I—I fell asleep."

His mouth dropped open. "For _this_ long? Do you know what I—we thought something happened!"

But something _did_ happen, she wanted to say. Something she couldn't even bring herself to explain to him out of pure terror.

"I'm sorry, I was just tired," Lily said, slightly taken aback by the vehemence in him. "I didn't think it would worry you."

"Worry—" James snapped his mouth shut, back straightening and arm dropping down to his side at the word. He cleared his throat and looked away uncomfortably. "I wasn't worried. It's just that you're staying with us now, and if something happened to you, it'd be our fault. Not that—not that you aren't capable, that's not what I'm saying, but, yeah, it's dangerous."

Her eyebrows had arched at his discomfort. She almost pointed out that everything he'd explained still amounted to him worrying about her, but refrained at the last second. Instead, she said, "what could possibly happen to me while I'm inside the house with all of you?"

"You can never be too sure," he grumbled, "we're not invincible."

"Perhaps not, but I trust you."

James's gaze snapped back to her at the admission, and she tried not to shy away from his piercing stare. An eternity passed in the time it took for his expression to soften, for half a smile to fly over his face. Something warm burned pleasantly in the center of Lily's chest.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, and she was thankful to him for cutting through the tension in the air. His smile morphed into a smirk. "Are you in imminent danger of toppling back to sleep anytime soon?"

"Not imminent, no. Come back tomorrow and my answer might be different."

"That's a shame. I wanted to ask if you would accompany me to dinner."

Her heart stopped beating, and all the blood in her body rushed to her face.

James must have caught the stunned expression, because he immediately backtracked, his own face flaming, hazel eyes wide. "Not that—not like _that_. I meant dinner with all of us! You, me, Sirius, and Remus. All _four_ of us. Not just—I mean, not that you're not, you know, _wonderful_ , but—I meant—"

"James," she stopped him with a short laugh, and he wanted to throw himself over the terrace ledge. "Breathe. It's okay. I'll join you."

He nodded, though the redness still refused to recede from his neck. "Right. Let's go."

"You go on downstairs. I'll need to change."

It was then that James noticed that she was still wearing her outfit from the morning; white flour had settled into the front of her dress, and a bit of dough still clung to some of her red strands. The memory from their ridiculous attempt at baking in the morning brought a smile to his face, but it faded when he remembered how she'd clammed up at what had followed.

"Okay," he said, unwilling to bring up the issue, "we'll wait for you."

Lily smiled, watching as he nodded again and walked away, one hand brushing through his strands. She shut the door behind herself and took a moment to lean against the wood, grin slipping over her lips even as she tried to suppress it.

He thought she was _wonderful_.

**********

"Well?" Sirius was at the bottom of the staircase when James descended. "Anything?"

"Yeah, she'd fallen asleep, but she's awake now."

"Asleep?" Remus asked, coming to stand beside Sirius as a frown adorned his face. "Is she sick?"

He shook his head, stepping off the last stair. "Just exhausted."

"Must have been _really_ exhausted to have slept through the day. I hope she's feeling well enough to join us for dinner?"

"She said she was. She'll be down in a few moments; she's changing," James shrugged, but then his spine stiffened with wariness when he noticed the smug look on Sirius's face. "What's up with you?"

"You two seem to have formed…a _bond_. Care to spill the beans, Potter?"

"What?"

Sirius shared a knowing look with Remus, one that annoyed James to no end. "What I'm asking is, what happened to cause the sudden shift in your relationship with Liz? How are the two of you suddenly laughing together so damn loud that _I_ have to break it up in alarm?"

James huffed, crossing his arms. "I thought you _wanted_ me to get along with her."

"You're certainly doing a fair bit more than getting along," Sirius smirked gleefully.

"Shut it," he groaned, "Liz and I just talked last night, alright? About…things."

"Things?" Remus asked skeptically.

"Yes," James insisted, feeling warm around the face again. It was excruciating to have to explain his thoughts. "It wasn't about anything in particular. And I guess I sort of came to the conclusion that she's…nice."

"Even ol' Filch could have told you that."

"Nice enough to be trusted," He gritted, knowing full well that 'nice' wasn't even close to the word he'd use to describe Eliza and all the things he thought of her. And so, he couldn't quite muster up enough irritation when Sirius rolled his eyes. "Anyway, so we decided to be friends."

"Now hang on a second," Sirius's face was aghast, " _friends_?"

"Uh, yes. What's the big deal?"

"Did Liz say you were her friend?"

James pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering where his best-mate was going with this. "I don't remember. But it was implied."

"No, it bloody well wasn't implied!"

" _Sirius_ ," Remus's voice was a warning.

"How do you know?" James asked with mock curiosity, "did she come to you and bare the darkest secrets of her heart?"

"No, I _know_ because I have eyes! You should probably get yours checked if you can't see that she _fancies_ you!"

The instant the words were out of Sirius's mouth, James's gaze snapped towards the staircase, heart pounding in apprehension when he considered the possibility that Liz might have heard the exclamation. Thankfully, she was nowhere to be seen. Face red with what he hoped was anger, he turned back to look at Sirius.

"Honestly, what the hell's wrong with you?! She could've heard that."

"I'm just saying—"

"Sirius, enough," Remus said, and there was an edge to his tone that rarely appeared, making it all the more effective. "Stop riling him up. James knows what he feels best."

"Oh, come on! You know I'm right!"

"It doesn't matter."

" _What_?!" James was incredulous, "so you actually agree with him?"

"I will say nothing on the matter. You're twenty, James, not five. You can figure things out without needing our intervention."

Sirius looked immensely proud, resembling a child who'd won a fight against his sibling. James wanted to punch the smugness down to his stomach. "You're both _insane._ There's no way that she—"

"Sorry for making all of you wait!" Liz's voice floated towards them, and James quickly swallowed his words, heart beating madly. They waited until she'd joined them at the bottom of the steps, and he caught a waft of fresh soap, something floral. "And, uh, I also wanted to apologize for staying up in my room the entire day."

"It's alright," Remus smiled sincerely, "we're glad you're feeling better."

"Thank you."

"Looking beautiful as always, Liz," Sirius winked, throwing an arm over her shoulder as she chuckled fondly. His grey eyes stared at James snarkily over her head. "We'll have a tough time keeping the men away from you tonight. Good thing James has his brooding face down perfectly."

The so-called 'brooding face' made an appearance as James rolled his eyes, even though he had to agree with the rest of Sirius's assessment. Liz looked stunning—something that never failed to render him speechless—in a dark green shirt that brought out the vibrant color of her eyes and enhanced the red of her lips against pale skin. She had tucked the shirt into black breeches and wore knee-length boots with laces on either side. With her hair hidden under the hood of her cloak, James knew she could do more damage, but the overall effect was devastating enough for him.

"Alright," Remus clapped his hands, smiling broadly, "let's get going before all the good seats are taken."

**********

In the end, it made no difference whether the pub had enough seats or not. As soon as they'd stepped into the brightly-lit establishment filled to the brim with raucous voices, laughter, music and the smell of fried food and alcohol, a hush had fallen over the room, only to resume half a second later with increased fervor.

Lily was more than a little shocked, unable to blink in fear of stumbling into someone or having someone stumble into her. Not that she _would_ —the reasonable side of her mind knew—since James had planted a steady hand against her back the moment they'd stepped in.

She shouldn't have felt as pleased at the contact as she did.

Yet, the entire atmosphere of The Three Broomsticks was like a crash of waves against her senses. She, who'd never been exposed to noise beyond a certain level—and _definitely_ not such jubilant noises—or heard music that wasn't soft ballroom tunes, felt entirely overwhelmed. A pair of women descended from the staircase that led to the lodging upstairs, their faces a little red and hair more than a little messy.

"Hey, you alright?" James asked, his hand moving from her back to lightly touch her elbow.

She looked up at him and grinned. "Wonderful," she said, having developed a new-found affection for the word, "I love it."

The laugh that left his lips then was laced less in humor and more in fondness, and Lily felt the sound all the way to her toes. The noises around them were almost muted when she stared at James, the open happiness on his face. It was strange to think that she'd known him for naught but a few days. It felt as if she'd always been attuned to everything he did, her own actions and movements barely more than a reaction to his.

She realized they had company when James tore his eyes away from her, his grin bright as ever. "Evening, Rose. Always a pleasure."

"James Potter," cooed a lilting voice, and Lily looked up to find a beautiful woman with blonde curls and sea-green eyes smiling at them—no, at _James_ —with a secret tilt to her full lips. She must have been a few years older than Lily, and carried herself with a confidence that only came with years of navigating through crowds of rowdy men who didn't bother to hide their leering gazes.

Lily instantly admired and envied her.

"Hope you can manage to squeeze us in for dinner," James said conversationally as Sirius and Remus disappeared somewhere—probably to place their orders. Someone bumped against Lily's shoulder and James's grip on her elbow tightened slightly. She looked at him again, but his attention was seemingly still on Rose. "We're starving."

"And when have you known me to ever turn you boys away from here?"

"There's always a first for everything. Though I _do_ hope to remain in your good graces for as long as possible."

"And why's that?" Rose smiled, her hand coming to rest on James's unoccupied forearm in a manner that made Lily feel as if something large and heavy had clamped around her lungs.

But James didn't look bothered, making her wonder if this was somehow a regular occurrence. And she wanted to kick herself for ever thinking—ever _presuming_ —that someone as brilliant and kind and handsome as the man next to her wouldn't have had his fair share of lovers. Unlike royalty such as herself, the commoners of the kingdom had no restrictions on the kinds of relationships they were allowed to indulge in. And though the rational part of her mind acknowledged the fact, the rest of her felt tortured and sick to her stomach at the thought of James with another woman.

"Where else could we ever hope to find amazing butterbeer served at the hands of a beautiful barmaid?"

Rose threw her head back and laughed, her hand patting his arm. "You're a cheeky one and no mistake," she said. Her eyes finally landed on Lily, and the surprise on her face was clear as day, "my, my, who's this gorgeous thing? She your woman, Potter?"

Lily tried to decipher if there was any resentful tinge to the question but found only good-natured curiosity. Her judgment may have gotten clouded thanks to the rapid beat of her heart, however.

"I daresay she doesn't belong to _anyone_ , let alone to me," James replied, though it wasn't hard to spot the redness that had crept up his neck and face. "This is Eliza; she's staying with us. Liz, this is Rosmerta, the owner of The Three Broomsticks."

She had gathered as much, but Lily nodded nonetheless, greeting the woman with a polite smile. Rosmerta returned the gesture with a wide grin that she would have appreciated more if the clenching around her lungs hadn't persisted as it did.

After a quick sweep of the room, Rosmerta led them to a booth cornered on one end of the pub. Lily slid inside easily, James taking the seat opposite her.

"Give me a shout if you need anything, Potter," Rosmerta said, and Lily's eyes trained on her hand as it fell onto James's. _Does she really have to keep touching him?_ She wondered bitterly, and almost missed the wink that the barmaid inconspicuously threw her.

"It's alright; the lads have already gone to get the drinks," James pointed to the bar counter with his free thumb.

Before Lily had a chance to contemplate the meaning behind what just happened, Rosmerta had walked away, the curve of her hips pronounced as she meandered in between people and tables.

"Liz, are you okay?"

"What?"

James was staring at her, head tilted to the side and hand halfway across the table, as if unsure whether to reach out to her. Lily wished he would, but his fingers stayed where they were. "You don't look so good."

She touched her face. "What?"

Half a smile tugged on his lips. "I don't mean _literally_. You look like you're going to be sick. Or like you want to kill someone."

"Oh," she breathed, realizing that she'd been frowning. It was a strange revelation, a feeling she'd never experienced in the manner she did now. But it was certainly something—simmering through her veins, quiet and repressed, but very much _there._ "Are you and Rosmerta…close?"

James blinked, clearly not having expected her to ask the question. "Uh…"

"I don't mean to be presumptuous or anything," her face heated, "but it looked as if—"

"No."

"Beg your pardon?"

He leaned over the table slightly, holding her stare with his own, unblinking, unwavering. " _No._ We're not _close._ Rosmerta just likes to tease; we've been coming here since we were young boys and at the time all of us were infatuated with her. It doesn't mean anything now." He shrugged.

"Oh. That's, er—I see," Lily mumbled, biting her lip and clenching the edges of the wooden table under her fingers in an attempt to not be entirely transparent in her relief.

Something in James's expression shifted, a brightness entering his eyes as he continued to look at her. "Liz, what are you—"

"Finally!" someone huffed, and several bottles of drinks were slammed onto the tabletop between them, causing Lily to jump back in surprise. Sirius plopped down onto the seat next to her with an exaggerated groan. "Rose _needs_ to make more space in here."

James couldn't help but feel slightly put off as Liz was drawn into a conversation with Sirius, and busied himself with reaching out for a bottle of Firewhiskey. Remus joined him a second later, gently setting down four large tankards on the table.

"Cheers, mate," James said appreciatively, pulling the mugs towards him. He slid a drink to Remus once the man had settled down beside him. "Any trouble?"

"Nah," Remus shook his head, a strange smile on his face as his eyes drifted back towards the direction he'd come from. James craned his neck curiously, but found nothing out of the ordinary there. When he looked back at Remus, he was pushing a mug of Butterbeer towards Liz. "What?" he asked, feeling James's eyes on him.

"Something's up with you."

"Nothing's up with me."

"You're…I don't know, _too_ calm."

"You've been around Sirius for too long," he rolled his blue eyes.

"I'm always around the two of you the same amount," James sighed, but gave up on trying to pry anything out of him. If there was one person who could lie their way through life without raising an ounce of suspicion, it was Remus. "Fine, Lupin, I don't believe you, but there's nothing I can do about it."

"Glad you're being so mature."

Feeling thoroughly annoyed and hating the smirk on Remus's face, James faced forward, eyes drawn back to Liz.

"Is this the infamous Butterbeer?" she asked, pointing to the tankard in front of her.

He smiled. "The very same."

"To Liz!" Sirius chimed, raising his glass into the air, unmindful of the drink as it sloshed a bit over the rim. "For braving the wrath of a tyrant king and for enduring something even worse—us!"

"I'll drink to that," Remus laughed, raising his own mug.

James followed suit, unable to hold back his grin when he noticed how wide her green eyes had gotten. "To Liz!"

They held their tankards aloft, waiting for her to do the same. James noticed the way her brows had pinched together, eyes unusually bright, fingers gripping her mug tightly with emotion, and his smile softened.

"To us," she toasted, voice cracking a bit.

Once they'd each had a sip—or in Sirius's case, downed the whole thing—Liz's face lit up. "This tastes amazing! I cannot believe I've never tried it."

"You only get it here," Remus laughed, "that's what got The Three Broomsticks to become so popular in the first place."

"I want to drink nothing but Butterbeer for the rest of my life."

"Yeah, everyone feels that way the first time they try it."

"And not later?" she asked with a raised brow, her gaze narrowing onto James's mug. "That's not Butterbeer. What are you drinking?"

"It's not exactly your cup of tea, I'm afraid," James smirked.

"I asked what it _is_ , not what it _isn't_."

Remus pinched his lips together in amusement as she stared at James over the rim of her mug, taking another sip. Seemingly having been trounced for the moment, James inclined his head, smirk still in place, eyes dancing. "Firewhiskey."

"Sounds interesting. I'll try it."

"I don't think so," he shook his head, covering his tankard as if she would promptly snatch it from his hands. "Have you ever even tried alcohol?"

Her displeased expression was answer enough.

"Come on, James," Sirius chipped in, his grey eyes already a bit glassy. He was pouring himself another drink. "It's just some Firewhiskey. What's the harm? We'll take care of it."

"You can't even take care of _yourself_ when you're intoxicated."

"Then Remus will do it."

The Marauder next to him shrugged his shoulders, looking unbothered. "I don't mind. She can't be any worse than you both."

"I won't drink too much," Liz said, leaning forward a bit so she could look at James imploringly, green eyes hopeful. "And I won't be a bother, I promise. _Please_ , James."

He didn't think he'd ever heard her request him for anything, and if he _had_ , he suddenly couldn't fathom how he could ever refuse her when she looked at him like that, said his name like that, smiled at him like that.

James ran a hand over his face, and knew there was no fighting it. "Yeah, yeah, alright."

**********

He couldn't remember why he'd thought this was a bad idea.

Across the table, Liz laughed loudly as she watched Sirius drop his fried chicken into his drink and stare at it blankly. The sound spread inside him, warming his chest and neck and face—or maybe that was just the Firewhiskey.

James blinked, trying to focus on his fingers as they reached for the food. He guessed he was more than a little tipsy—what with having emptied three tankards already—but after all his talk earlier, he couldn't make a fool out of himself in front of Liz.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Hm?" James looked up, stuffing a couple of fries into his mouth. He then realized that his face was split into a stupid grin. "Uh, I'm happy?"

"I can see," Remus looked like he was trying not to laugh. "All good?"

Without meaning to, James's eyes automatically flitted to the girl across the table as he chewed, and when he turned back to Remus, the man's eyebrows had shot up meaningfully. "Piss off."

"I didn't say anything."

"You were giving me one of your looks."

"What look?"

"Like you know something and you know you're right and you're hoping I'll explain myself without you having to bring it up because you _know_ if you brought it up then I'll get annoyed and not say anything."

This time Remus did laugh. "That's a lot to convey through one look."

James shrugged, unable to stop smiling like an idiot. "You're talented."

"I th—I think I've had a bit much…" Sirius slurred, catching their attention. He lost his train of thought for a moment, "to drink."

This prompted Liz to dissolve into another fit of laughter, and James grinned broader.

"I regret saying I could handle this," Remus groaned loudly, but his eyes shone in utter delight. "Come on, you lot. It's time to go home. I can't carry all of you if you topple over."

James waited until Remus had left the booth before he slid out after him. His feet automatically carried him over to Liz, and he offered her his hand, which she took with a bright smile. The warmth inside him spread into a larger bubble.

"Isn't 'home' such a nice word, James?" she sighed, looking strangely emotional.

"I suppose so," he whispered, half distracted by how nice her hand felt against his.

"Oi, James!" Remus called, and he turned around to see that he had Sirius's arm slung over his shoulder. "This one's almost passed out; I'm taking him out for some air. Would you please settle the amount with Rose?"

He waved them on in response and turned back to Liz. She was still staring up at him, lips parted slightly. Something hummed inside him and he squeezed her hand. "Wait here. I'll be right back."

"Okay."

Feeling strangely restless and like his heart was pounding somewhere near his throat, James made his way towards the bar counter. Rosmerta was nowhere to be seen, but there was another woman—with light blonde curls and a heart-shaped face—who smiled at him prettily.

"Hey, we're about to leave, so could you—"

"Sure," she nodded her head, doing some quick calculation and letting James know the amount. He settled the bill and turned around, eyes immediately looking for Liz.

He frowned, noticing that the place he'd left her in was now empty. He walked back to the spot and looked around. "Liz?" It felt as if his senses had become cloudy from the alcohol.

"I've already _told_ you—James!"

He swiveled at the sound of his name, relief running through him at the familiar voice. But then he spotted her leaning against the banister of the staircase, a bulky man leaning close to her, one hand wrapped around her wrist, and the smile on James's face was wiped clean.

The man looked back at him when Liz took his name, wrenching her hand free in the same movement. Her face was redder than when he'd left her, so James knew it wasn't simply because of the Firewhiskey.

Instantly, he was at her side, feeling like he wanted to punch someone—and he had a good idea who. "What's going on?"

"See? I told you I didn't need your help," Liz told the man, nostrils flaring. The thrill that shot through his entire being when she wrapped her arm around his and slightly leaned on him was certainly not normal. James could only hope she was too drunk to notice. "I'm here with someone."

"Potter," the man stuttered, his earlier sneer having morphed into poorly-hidden terror now. James recognized him as Omar Zaki. He was a carpenter on his good days and a misogynistic drunk on his bad ones. "Sorry, mate, didn't know this one's yours."

There were so many things wrong with that apology that James didn't know what to point out.

Liz's fingers around his arm tightened, and he realized he'd tensed up, fists clenched. "Get home and sleep. You're in no state to be here anymore," James made himself say, and she relaxed against him again.

Once the man had all but scampered away, he turned to face her properly. "Are you okay? Did he try anything?"

But she was smiling at him again, as if everything in the world was fine, and James felt himself go warm when she stepped slightly closer, his hand clutched between both of hers. "No. You came back at the perfect time. Thank you."

He was tempted— _incredibly_ so—to touch her face or pull or closer or do something equally as idiotic. So, he said, "let's go home."

**********

"Oh, for heaven's _sake_ , Sirius! We're home—" Remus huffed, all but dragging his half-conscious friend alongside. Once they were properly inside, he unceremoniously pushed Sirius off, letting him fall straight onto the mattress on the floor. James winced at the sound.

That had to have hurt.

"Bloody _hell_!" groaned Sirius, too drunk to do more than scowl with his eyes closed. "Did I fall?"

"No, I threw you."

"What d'you do that for?"

"With the hope that you'll remember how much it hurts to make your friend drag you back home."

"I won't," he replied, promptly going to sleep, mouth slightly open.

"I'm debating whether I should kick him," Remus said.

"You'd only feel guilty later," James sniggered, smiling lazily as Liz leaned against him. She hadn't left his side the entire walk back home, shrouded in comfortable silence though the journey had been. Well, silence except for the loud beating of his heart. "Besides, he'll suffer enough when he wakes up in the morning."

"You're right," Remus sighed, looking entirely too forlorn. His eyes then rested on James, the stare strangely soft and perceptive at the same time. "You should help her upstairs."

"Yeah," James said, feeling suddenly jittery as he ran his hand through his hair. Perhaps if he was slightly more drunk, it would have helped with the situation. He looked down at Liz, noticed that her eyes were closed, and nudged her slightly with his shoulder. "Can you walk?"

She nodded, and bright green eyes greeted him. Somewhere on the way back, her hood had fallen off. "Yes."

Before Remus could say anything more—and he looked like he had a lot to say—James led her upstairs, unable to properly hate the way he enjoyed her presence any longer. Liz was quiet again, and he was afraid to say anything weird, so he kept his mouth shut too until they were in front of her door.

"We're here," he said unnecessarily.

She slowly extracted herself from around him, and James immediately missed the warmth.

A light breeze floated in from the terrace, and a few strands of her hair fell over her face. It reminded him of that first night when she'd come to Godric's Hollow, and he was struck with the impossible realization that it had been only two days since then.

What an insane amount of difference a day made.

"What are you thinking?" Liz asked. Had she stepped closer to him or was he imagining it?

The remnants of Firewhiskey in his veins making him braver—or was it stupider?—James's fingers reached out to push her hair back. Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she blinked. "Where have you been?" he whispered.

She tilted her head slightly, and James would have thought she was entirely sober were it not for the distinctly glassy look in her eyes and the silly smile on her lips. "What are you saying, Potter? I'm right here."

"No," his heart clenched, "where have you been all my life?"

That smile slipped then, and she definitely stepped closer now. One of her hands was gently splayed on his shirt, and he was thankful it was low enough that she couldn't feel his racing heartbeat. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For saving my life."

James didn't understand what she meant, but she was staring at his lips now and his brain stopped functioning. He was completely certain that he'd never wanted anything more than he wanted to kiss her at that moment. But—

"You're drunk."

"I don't care," she breathed.

But he did. This was not right. "Liz."

Something in her face shifted at the sound of her name. The hand that she had planted against him curled back, as if in shock, before she completely stepped away, drawing in a shaky breath, eyes wide. "I—I'm sorry."

James was baffled. He hadn't meant to petrify her. "No, wait, you don't have to be sorry!"

But she was already retreating, one hand wrenching open the door behind her. "I should go sleep."

"Liz," he called again, and she almost _winced_ , "listen, please. I don't—I don't want you to think that I'm pushing you away. I'm not. This is just…new, yeah? And I don't want you to do something you'd regret later."

She was silent for a beat, and he was relieved when she nodded slowly. "I know. Goodnight, James."

"Goodnight," he said, watching as she disappeared inside her room before he went back downstairs.

In the end, James half-wished that he'd stuck to keeping his mouth shut.


	11. The Leverage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of nervous Jily interactions. And Remadora makes an appearance!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In proper AU fashion, Tonks is not related to Sirius in this universe because it works more conveniently for me that way. Also, apologies in advance.

**Deception and Disguise**

**Chapter 11 – The Leverage**

* * *

"You called for me, Your Majesty?"

The king's dark eyes looked up; gaze ruthless as he stared at the maid across the courtroom.

Mary tried not to cower under the attention as she bowed down wordlessly, an unpleasant shiver running down her spine at his contemptuous sneer. Not for the first time in the last several minutes did she wonder why King Riddle had suddenly decided to summon her. As far as Mary was aware, she absolutely disgusted him.

That thought, unsurprisingly, did not bother her. The feelings were mutual.

Mary just reveled in the fact that he had not killed her or her family yet.

But she had not deluded herself to believe that there was no possibility of him changing his mind whenever he so pleased. She gulped at the thought, unwilling to stay in his presence a second longer. What if—God forbid—he had suddenly decided to throw her out? Who would feed her family? Or what if _,_ Mary thought with a different sort of fear jolting through her, it was something about the princess? Had she been found?

So consumed had she become in her inner musings that she started at the sound of Riddle's cold, scornful voice.

"You were the princess's _friend_ , were you not, girl?" He spat, looking revolted at the idea.

Mary felt the beginnings of annoyance form within her, but quickly squashed away the feeling. She knew it was best to keep her irritation to herself, lest she preferred to die.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Then I suppose you shall not have a problem in telling me where she might have fled."

Mary's heart thumped painfully against her chest, but she forced herself to maintain a confused expression. "I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but I—I don't know anything about the whereabouts of the princess. I would have definitely told you if—" she was stopped short when he scoffed bitterly.

"I do not have time for this sort of rubbish, you filth. Do not think me foolish. I know that Princess Evans must have told you something before she fled like the coward that she is. Now, out with it, or it will take me but a second to throw you into the gallows." His voice was laden with unrestrained venom as he regarded the ashen-faced girl in front of him.

Mary had no doubt that the king's words were not mere empty threats; it _would_ take him but a second to have her hung, and even less to _decide_ to hang her. Suddenly feeling nervous and jittery, she bit her lip, brown eyes darting around in all directions. She was stuck, and there was no way out.

Of course, not for a second did she consider ratting out Lily; no, she would rather embrace the noose than betray her friend. But on the other hand, her family…

"Pardon me again, Your Majesty, but I _really_ don't know where the princess is." This was, in fact, not a lie. "I don't have any idea—"

"Stop playing these tricks on me!" he instantly bit out, advancing towards her menacingly. His sword was out of its sheath and pointed to her throat within seconds, freezing Mary in place. She felt the cold metal against her skin, and held no doubt in her mind that even the smallest of movements would guarantee her death. The dread in her eyes stared back at her from the reflection on the blade, the absolute fear in them haunting her.

"I know for a fact," the king continued frostily, "that there was someone who helped the princess escape that night. The guards, however useless they may be, heard someone talking to her. And who here in the palace would _dare_ go against me and ally with that vile girl but her own faithful servant?"

Mary felt herself stop breathing altogether when the pressure of the sword against her throat seemed to increase. She was almost sure that the blade was going to leave a trail of blood behind. "Do not, for a second, mistake me for some naïve man who will buy every bit of rubbish that falls out of your filthy mouth," Riddle whispered, his putrid, cold breath making Mary feel nauseated. "You want to save your little friend? Very well then, we'll see how well you do that locked up in the cellar."

She didn't know whether to feel afraid or relieved when Riddle finally lowered the sword from her throat, slipping it back into its sheath. _Locked up in a cellar? For execution?_ "Your Majesty, I—"

"Unless, of course," he continued loudly, drowning out the maid's protests, "you decide that you have some information worth my time."

Mary breathed deeply, but shook her head. A single teardrop trailed down her cheek. "I apologize, Your Majesty, but I do not have anything to inform you," she said. Suddenly, a foolish sort of bravery seemed to overtake her, and she looked up at him with a fierce stare. "However, I just want to say that I'm _glad_ Lily ran away. She deserves _so_ much better than this suffocating palace. And I hope that she never returns because anywhere is better than here!"

"You wretched creature!" Riddle spat, backhanding the girl in his rage. It was hardly satisfying when she emerged with just a throbbing cheek and a bloody lip. "Scum like you do not even deserve to live! It is a pity I cannot kill you…yet."

"W-what?" Mary found herself asking despite her better judgment. It was impossible! Would he really let her live after what she'd just said? It was almost miraculous, and at the same time, utterly shocking. Why he would delay killing her for even a second, Mary could not fathom.

"Yes, a pity indeed," he repeated, a slow, contemptuous smile suddenly pulling at his thin lips. Mary soon realized that this was worse— _far_ worse—than his anger. "But you see, I rather plan on having you locked up in the cellar for days on end. In the meantime, your beloved princess—and all of Gryffindor, of course—shall hear about your poor, poor fate. And when she finds out about it, do you know what she is going to do?" His sneer was rampantly cruel.

Mary knew. She knew, and she just didn't _want_ to know. The man was using her as his leverage, his winning hand. And what frightened her even more, what got the tears pouring down her face even faster, was the fact that she _knew_ his plan would work.

"She is going to try to save you, silly girl. She is going to come crawling back here," he laughed; a cold, inhuman laugh that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"No," she whispered, "please, no. You can't do this. _Please._ " Her voice cracked a bit, stomach dropping in dread when the king looked at her with unadulterated disgust. She continued to plead, all the while knowing it was of no use.

"Stop this nonsense," Riddle said, before snapping his fingers twice. Two burly-looking guards immediately scampered in, their eyes flying to the sobbing girl before they dutifully bowed down to the king. It was, after all, not a scene that met their eyes very rarely.

"Take this filth away from here and lock her up," he ordered offhandedly before sparing a glance at one of the men. "Oh, and Goyle?"

"Y-yes, Your Majesty?"

"Make sure that this… _terrible_ news travels around the kingdom, would you? We wouldn't want our dearest servant's sacrifice going to waste now, would we?"

"Er, yes, Your Majesty," Goyle answered, though really, he had no idea what this was about. But he would have been crazy to question the king's motives. In fact, it was not even mildly surprising to him when Riddle simply walked across the courtroom towards his table to attend to his paperwork, his business with them seemingly done.

With a final bow, Goyle, along with the other guard, took the now drained Mary by the arms and led her out of the room, the girl's soft sniffles echoing in the corridors as they made their way towards the cellar in the basement.

**********

It was almost noon by the time Lily made her way downstairs.

She hadn't slept in—had barely managed to get any sleep at all, in fact—and the lack of rest and excess alcohol in her system made her head pound something horrid. She decided never to drink again, at least not in the strange amount that she had last night; not enough to make her pass out, but enough, _more_ than enough, to make her forget the things she should've remembered and act on feelings she _certainly_ shouldn't have even entertained.

Lily didn't know how she'd face him now.

Even after spending the better part of the night and well into the early hours of the morning contemplating exactly how she'd go about talking to James after what had happened—what she'd almost let happen—last night, Lily was still unbelievably lost.

At least all her worrying had led to one thing. She'd been able to admit, at least to herself, that she liked him. Not too much— _hopefully_ not too much—but still enough for concern.

With that admission came the realization that she was only making things worse for herself and for those around her. There was no clean escape from this dilemma anymore. She had to take the leap, had to trust that they'd believe her, that _he'd_ believe her.

Lily sighed and made up her mind: she'd tell them the truth about herself today.

And after that—after that, she'd handle whatever came.

But the house seemed empty when she was finally downstairs. There was no one bustling about or sitting around the small wooden table like usual. She took a step forward and noticed a head of inky black hair peeking out from under the covers to her right. Her heart almost jumped, but a longer look let her know that it was just Sirius, still snoozing away on his mattress.

The other two beds were unoccupied.

Chastising herself for being so nervous, Lily wandered towards the kitchen. The door was already ajar when she approached the threshold, and soft voices floated in the air.

"…already slept more than enough," Remus was grumbling, "no one _made_ him drink so much."

James's deeper voice chuckled, and her heart flipped. "You know how he is. He'll throw a tantrum as soon as we try to wake him."

"Speaking of, someone should go wake Liz as well."

There was a non-committal hum.

Feeling a little stupid for eavesdropping, Lily stepped inside the kitchen, heart in her throat despite her every attempt to feel normal. James's back was turned to her as he attended to something in the hearth. Remus spotted her first.

"Liz!"

" _Yes_ , I heard you, there's no need to—oh!" James turned around, blinking owlishly when he saw her. After a painfully awkward second, he smiled. "Good morning."

"It's almost noon, actually," Lily bit her cheek, smiling back, though she guessed hers came across more strained.

"Do you want some tea?" James asked, unbothered. "I'm just making some."

"Uh, yes, please. Thank you."

"No problem."

Remus looked between the two of them, his eyebrow cocked at the strange tension strung across the room. It was both fascinating and exasperating to him how they managed to look at each other while also flitting their eyes around uncomfortably.

"We'll need to go out," he sighed to break the silence, "to the market."

"Again?" James balked, "didn't we just get stuff a few days ago?"

"Well, we wouldn't have to if the two of you hadn't played around with all that flour yesterday and wasted so much food."

Lily grinned at the memory and found James mirroring her. It was unbelievable to her that the whole fiasco had happened just yesterday morning. She felt as if every moment she spent around these people—around James—was like living a lifetime in itself.

And even though she had already made up her mind, Lily was only human; she wanted to delay the moment where she'd have to crush this semblance of a happy life as much as possible. She would tell them today—later, after she had enjoyed their joyful voices and friendly eyes for a little while longer.

"May I join you?" she blurted, "When you go to the market?"

Remus smiled. "Of course. You don't need to ask."

James nodded as well before he turned around and carried a steaming kettle out of the hearth using a rag. He was just pouring the hot water when there was a loud groan from behind Lily.

She whipped around in alarm to find Sirius scowling on the threshold.

"Why's it so bloody bright in here?"

**********

After they'd all had their cups of tea and given some sustenance to their stomach to pass the day, they were prepared to leave.

Lily was just swinging on her cloak when Sirius whined pettily for the third time in as many minutes. "Do we _have_ to go out today? My head's killing me."

"I know you already heard me the first ten times," James started, "but _again_ , no one's forcing you to come with us."

"Oh, so what? I'm just supposed to sit here alone while you lot are out there?"

"We're hardly going to war, mate. You don't have to behave like some wounded soldier who can't join the fight because his limbs don't work anymore."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "That's insensitive to soldiers."

"That's insensitive to _you_ , you mean."

"How long will this continue?" Lily whispered to Remus as they stepped out, "I mean, we've already left the house."

Remus shrugged nonchalantly. "They can go on for hours without interruption, though I'm sure we'll get way too annoyed by them to let it continue until then."

The sound of bickering was still going strong behind them a few streets down. The conversation had somehow moved onto who used how much water in the bath. "I can't believe they have so much to argue about."

"It's like living with children."

She bumped his shoulder with hers, grinning. "You're acting like you're not fond of them."

"One of my many flaws," Remus snorted. And then there was a glint in his eyes, a smirk on his mouth. "One you relate quite well with, I reckon, no matter that you're _considerably_ fonder of one of us more than the others."

Her heart thudded, mouth dropping open. "I'm not—I don't—"

"Christ, I was right!" He laughed, "It was just a suspicion, but—you're just as bad as him."

Lily blinked. As _bad_ as—did that mean what she thought it meant? Well, it wasn't as if James had pushed her away last night—had even gone on to tell her that he hadn't—but she was drunk and she'd gathered that he hadn't wanted to hurt her feelings after she'd been so bold in her actions. Had he said something to Remus, then? Did Remus already know about last night?

But before she could manage to swallow her mortification and get the questions out, he squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. "Relax, I won't say anything. This is between you and me."

Lily stared at him quietly, feeling a definite sense of calm settling over her as he smiled gently. "Thank you. I—it means a lot."

Suddenly, something heavy collided against her from behind, jerking her a step forward in surprise. But it was just Sirius, who'd pushed himself in between them and slung his arms over their shoulders with a huge grin. "What are you both talking about?"

"How we much preferred it when you were sleeping."

"Liar. Liz would _never_. Would you, darling?"

"Don't spoil him," James said, appearing on her right and successfully killing her train of thought. She supposed it worked rather well for him since now Lily couldn't open her mouth at _all_ , let alone spoil anyone. "He's unbearable this morning."

"Just this morning?" Remus leaned forward to catch James's eye.

"Oh, you know I'm not one to hold grudges."

"Right, of course."

Lily joined in on the chuckling as Sirius harrumphed and scoffed at 'this unwarranted debasement of his character' which he 'would not stand for'. Soon, they found themselves in between a crowded market, filled to the brim with commoners and vendors alike. Something warm and syrupy-sweet filled her chest when everyone around them smiled at the Marauders.

There was a light brush against her knuckles, and Lily looked up to find James smiling at her uncertainly. She hadn't realized when they'd broken away from Sirius and Remus to walk ahead. "How are you?"

She looked down, playing with the ring on her finger. "Alright. And you?"

"Would be better if you weren't ignoring me."

Her eyes widened as she snapped her gaze to him. He didn't look put off; just amusedly nervous as he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not ignoring you, James."

"Then what would you call not speaking a word to me since morning?"

A half-smile lifted her lips. "I have spoken words. More than one."

"Not nearly as much as you did last night."

And even though she had been expecting him to bring it up, her heart still skipped a bit and stomach still flipped over. "I didn't mean—I apologize if I crossed a line. Or made you uncomfortable."

"I think you look a sight more uncomfortable than I do," James said, his tone somber now. Lily felt herself coming to a standstill when he slipped his hand into hers fully, effectively stopping her. "Listen. If I gave any indication yesterday that—"

"No, it wasn't—"

"You don't need to brush it off."

"No, really. I mean—oof!"

James watched with a wince as someone collided with Liz, almost sending her stumbling down to the pavement. He tightened his hand around hers, keeping her steady against his side. He figured the entire thing was his fault since he was the one who'd had the marvelous of stopping and chatting in the middle of a crowded street.

An apology was sitting ready on his tongue, but the other person beat him to it.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I'm so clumsy, I didn't see where I was going."

"No, no, you don't have to apologize. We shouldn't have—are you okay?" Liz looked on with concern.

James tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "Hang on. I've seen you somewhere."

Clear blue eyes blinked back at him, and he spotted the moment realization struck in them. The woman nodded her head, blonde curls bobbing. "Yesterday," she snapped a finger, "The Three Broomsticks?"

"You were at the counter," he remembered.

"What's going on here?"

James turned around to find that Sirius and Remus had finally caught up to them. With the movement came the recollection that he was still holding on to Liz's hand. She seemed to have realized the same thing because—after a quick glance at him—she pulled her hand away. It was entirely telling and not at all inconspicuous, but thankfully no one commented on it.

"Wait, _Dora_?" Remus's voice was laced in pleasant surprise as he walked closer. "Fancy running into you here."

"Remus!" the woman grinned brightly, and James didn't imagine the pinkness that bloomed on her cheeks. "It's good to meet you again."

They looked content to just stand there and smile at each other, so Liz cleared her throat, a small smirk on her face that James found more attractive than he should have.

"Oh, right!" Remus jumped, "Uh, everyone, this is Nymphadora Tonks—"

" _No_ , please, just call me Dora. I'd rather people not use that name," she glared half-heartedly at Remus.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dora," Liz stepped forward, smiling warmly. "My name is Eliza. But you can call me Liz." And then her eyes gleamed mischievously. "I wasn't aware Remus knew someone so pretty."

"Hardly!" Dora laughed, "We just met yesterday at the pub! Besides, I don't hold a candle to you."

At the mention of the pub again, James remembered that Remus had looked highly distracted when he'd re-joined them after getting the drinks the previous night. Almost as if he could see inside James's head, Remus turned to him with a stern look—the effect completely ruined by the reddening tips of his ears—as if to say ' _don't_ '.

He sighed, feeling like he'd been denied something precious. "Afternoon, Dora, I'm—"

"James Potter, I know. And you're Sirius Black, of course," she nodded pleasantly at both of them, "I mean, everyone knows the Marauders. Even someone like me, who's just moved to Gryffindor recently."

"You're not from here then?" Sirius asked.

She shook her head. "Slytherin. And I couldn't stand to be in that kingdom any longer. So here I am."

Lily, who knew of the royal families in Slytherin better than she ever wanted to, nodded in understanding. The Marauders seemed to feel the same way, even if Sirius's smile suddenly looked a little tight.

"Oi, you lot! Get moving! You're blocking the entire street with your little meeting," someone shouted from behind them.

Craning her neck, Lily caught sight of Filch, the man looking no less grouchy since the last time she'd seen him. However, she soon realized that grouchy or not, he was right; they were indeed creating quite an inconvenience in the already crowded market by huddling together in the middle of the street.

"Well, I suppose I must get going now," Dora said, pulling her attention back. As the girl bent down to grab her bags of fruits and vegetables, Lily noticed the disappointment that flashed over Remus's face.

Something must have shifted in her own expression because she saw James giving her a curious look, which she pointedly ignored. "Remus, why don't you help Dora to her home? Those bags look heavy."

"I— _what_?"

James caught on. "Yea, we'll take care of getting the flour and vegetables."

"And I'll get the fruits," Sirius grinned. "So really, you're just an extra, Remus."

"Oh, I couldn't _possibly_ —"

"It's quite alright, Dora, Remus is happy to help."

"And we must really get going," Lily added. Suddenly feeling determined, or maybe having decided to use the situation to her benefit—but for whatever reason—before she had time to think about what she was doing properly, Lily reached out and grabbed James's hand in hers again. "Goodbye, Dora. It was nice to meet you!"

And then she pulled him away from the group, the sea of people quickly eating them up.

"What? But—" Dora started, confused, before she was cut off.

"Don't worry," Sirius smirked, "let them go. They're crazy people in love. Besides, Filch looked like he was going to pop a vein if we ignored him a second longer."

Dora laughed.

Remus, on the other hand, had gone a little red in the neck, his eyes narrowed and expression leaving no room for doubt that he knew exactly what his ridiculous friends were up to. "Sirius—"

"It's not polite to leave a lady waiting, Remus," Sirius chided, looking delighted. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "I'll leave you to it. See you later!" He gave a two-finger salute before sauntering off.

"Well, that was quite…sudden," Dora smiled, tugging on one of her curls nervously. "You know," she continued, turning to face Remus again after she'd picked up one of her bags, leaving the other for him, "stealthy thieves though you might be, your friends aren't very good at subtlety."

It took quite a few seconds for her words to make an impact on the Marauder, but when they did, Remus snapped his head towards her, jaw hanging. "You—you _knew_ and…you still played along?"

"I mean, they didn't leave us with much of a choice, did they?"

"I suppose not," he chuckled lightly, suddenly realizing how _stupid_ the entire situation was. "I'm sorry about all this, you know. I'm sure getting accosted wasn't in your plan when you stepped out today."

"That's not entirely correct," she shook her head, waiting until he fell into step beside her. There was a distinct shyness to her smile now, "I enjoyed our conversation yesterday enough to hope to run into you. And I hope—I mean, I don't want to presume, but—"

"I did, too," he said, now smiling broadly, "want to meet you again, I mean."

"Then this worked out rather well I think, don't you?"

"Hm, I guess I can put off killing them for another week or so," Remus agreed, prompting another laugh to spill out from her. It was quickly coming to sound like music to his ears.

**********

"Oh my God, I can't believe that actually happened!" Lily cried excitedly as she and James made their way through the street. The pair had, through a tacit agreement, pulled their hands away once they were out of their friends' sights, though neither felt very pleased about it.

"I'm impressed," James said, throwing her a half-smile as they stopped in front of a stall. "You're rather quick on your feet, aren't you?"

Oh, if only he knew.

Lily shrugged, smile slipping a bit without her consent. She bit her lip, feeling the familiar churnings of guilt in her stomach. Was it really her place to meddle with their lives, let herself get attached to them, when she very well knew that soon they would hate her? Hate the very idea of her?

How would she explain to them that despite having lied about her identity—about the very person she was—she hadn't fabricated her feelings or how much she had come to care for them? Could she blame them if they didn't believe her? Would she even believe herself in their place?

James's hand dropped onto her shoulder, his brows furrowed. "You alright? Lost you for a second there."

Lily started, and looked up to see that he already had a bag of goods in his hand. She had unwillingly spiraled into her anxious thoughts. "Yes," she sighed, "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Is this about—" His query was suddenly cut off by a loud shriek that erupted from somewhere up ahead.

"What was that?" Lily mused, and with a shared confused glance, the pair started making their way towards the curious throng that had gathered down the street. But before they could push through, the crowd parted and a small figure darted out from between.

The little girl's cheeks were stained with tears. With a loud sob, she ran down the street, brushing past James and Lily like a storm.

The princess gasped softly, the sound almost inaudible amongst the immediate ruckus that followed the scene. Lily knew that young, barely eleven-year-old child. And despite the fact that she had met her only once before—quite a few years back when the girl had been only four or five—Lily could recognize that face anywhere.

She had the same curly copper brown hair and freckled nose as Lily's only confidante. She was Mary's younger sister, Rose.

A sudden tremor in her heart told Lily that something was very, _very_ wrong.

"Execution," James's grim voice carried to her ears, pulling Lily back into herself. The word echoed in her ears, eating away at her insides. With a deep breath, she tried to calm herself before looking at him.

"What?" she asked, voice heavy with trepidation. James did not reply, simply looked down at a crumpled piece of parchment in his hand which Lily had not noticed before. It must have dropped when Rose ran past them, her unsteady fingers failing to keep it firmly grasped.

Heart beating frantically against her chest, Lily let her eyes fly over the words on the paper, unable to stare at James's solemn expression any longer. With every passing second and with every word she read, she felt her throat constricting painfully, making it difficult for her to breathe. Moments later, with a ragged sigh, she saw James's fingers wrap around the parchment, crumpling it again before he threw it away angrily.

But the damage was already done.

She had seen and taken in every single word on the parchment, the message hammered into her head and heart like a nail. And even when she heard James's voice, somewhere far away—letting her know that this was real and not a nightmare—Lily still found herself unable to believe it.

"It's Mary MacDonald's execution," he said haggardly, the words hitting her like stones, "for treason against the king."


	12. Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll pretend like it's already Thursday.
> 
> P.S - Not a very loaded chapter, but you get some Jily interaction.

**Deception and Disguise**

**Chapter 12 – Guilt**

* * *

She couldn't breathe.

Something large and uncomfortable was lodged inside her chest, taking away her ability to pull air into her lungs or thoughts into her head. All she heard was James's voice telling her, "Mary Macdonald's execution" and all she saw were the words on that parchment confirm it for her.

Lily's hands shook as she stared ahead, feeling a strange sort of buzzing in her ear. Her friend—her only companion when she'd had _no one—_ was going to be killed, and she couldn't do anything about it. The helplessness of the situation was like shackles around her feet as she was dropped into an ocean, leaving her grappling for an anchor, but there was none.

With a choked gasp, she turned around and fled from the market, going wherever her feet would carry her. The place suddenly felt too crowded, too congested, and she had to get away—to think, to _breathe_ again. Lily was barely aware of the stream of salty tears that were blurring her vision before they rushed to trail down her cheeks.

It was all her fault.

She knew it as surely as she felt the guilt overpower her senses.

If she hadn't burdened Mary with her problems and rants, her friend would have never become involved in all of this. She was the sweetest person Lily knew—she had been caring enough to help her escape, to bear Riddle's wrath even without her around anymore.

And _this_ was how she was being repaid? Where was the justice in that? Mary didn't deserve to die. Her family didn't deserve this sort of pain.

As her sorrow quickly morphed into anger—unadulterated _rage_ that was directed at the unfeeling king, Lily's tears fell even more heavily. So, _this_ was his way of dealing with the situation? He was punishing poor Mary? And for what? Because she refused to give him answers? Because she refused to be as inhumane and cold as he was?

The thought made her _sick._

But it all came down to the same conclusion.

It _was_ her fault.

And now her friend was going to suffer because of her.

A mass of unstable limbs and raw emotions, she collapsed onto the cold floor where her feet had carried her, breathing and sobbing brokenly. In her state of distress, Lily hardly had time to appreciate the privacy of her sanctuary, which was the same street where she had first met James, when loud, frantic footsteps echoed on the cobblestones, signaling someone's arrival.

But Lily felt far too gone to care, to look up and face her intruder. For all she knew, it was one of Riddle's guards who had identified her while she blindly ran through the streets, and had now come to arrest her. Well, she thought bitterly through her tears, perhaps— _perhaps—_ her return would ensure Mary's freedom.

But really, if she knew her uncle—and she did—Lily could say with unquestioned certainty that he would lock her up _and_ kill Mary all in one go.

That thought prompted another loud sob to wrack through her body, and she buried her face in her hands, foolishly hoping that the person—guard or no guard—would just leave her alone.

They didn't leave, however. Did the opposite, in fact. She heard feet shuffling closer, and soon her hands were being gently pulled away from her face. Lily supposed she shouldn't have been surprised to see him.

"Liz," James said softly, his mouth downturned into a worried frown, "what happened?"

The question felt laughably absurd to her at that moment. _What happened?_ How would she even begin to explain it to him?

"Please, go away!" she cried instead. She tried to pull her hands back, to push him away, and when that didn't work, she gave up, shoulders shaking with her sobs. Why did he have to follow her here? "Just leave me alone," Lily tried once more, hating the fact that he had to see her cry.

"No," he said, fingers slightly tightening around her hands. The strong conviction in James's voice instinctively made Lily look at him. Even in the dark alleyway, she could make out the determination in his eyes as he stared at her. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong."

She shook her head. "I can't—"

"Then I'll stay until you can."

 _It isn't that simple!_ She wanted to scream. He had no idea what he was asking her to do. And though Lily had decided to be honest with him now, _this_ was not how she wanted to spill her secret. He'd never understand; he'd be too busy pushing her away when she told him who she really was.

"Listen, Liz," James started again, shifting a little to take his place beside her on the ground. His gaze softened when he saw her pained expression and blotchy face. "If this is about Mary MacDonald's execution, then there's nothing you or any of us can do. Don't you think we would have done something already if that was the case?" His jaw clenched. "That's just the way things are in this kingdom; Riddle kills innocents every day, and we—well, we're trying to help in our own way."

"Please," Liz breathed, and he saw some sort of desperation overtake her eyes. She reached out, cold hands grabbing his own again quickly. They were shaking. "Please, James. There must be something you can do. There has to be! Mary—she was my—she helped me—I wouldn't be here without her!"

"What do you mean?"

"We have to save her! It's all my fault!" her face crumpled again.

"Shh, it's okay." Feeling thoroughly confused, James wrapped his arms around her trembling shoulders and pulled her into his chest. "Everything's going to be fine, yeah? It's not your fault, you—"

"It is!" Liz insisted as she buried her face into his shirt, nonsensical words falling from her lips as he struggled to calm her down. The collar of his shirt was soon drenched with her tears, and something tight had clenched around his heart, squeezing in rhythm with her pain. "It _is_ my fault. _Nothing_ is f-fine, James. If I hadn't—"

"Okay, okay, I understand," James said, even though he didn't. His fingers gently pushed the hood off her head and ran through her hair soothingly. "Whatever it is, we'll fix it together. Don't worry. Just…breathe."

Lily knew he didn't understand—he couldn't _possibly_ —but she was grateful that he didn't pry. At least not yet. She was in no state to explain herself right now; stuttering words and shaky mumbles were all she could manage. So, she let herself cry, feeling James stroke her hair softly while his other hand rubbed calming circles on her back, warm and comforting. And all Lily could do was cling to him desperately, listen to his encouraging mutterings, hushed voice, and try to steady her breathing.

Minutes passed, or perhaps hours did, as the two of them sat huddled in that dingy alley. The sun had almost set, the orange glow dimming the street, when Lily was finally able to reduce her panicked crying into barely audible sniffs. Her tears had dried up and her throat felt sore by the time James unwrapped his arms from around her.

She immediately felt his absence as the warmth left her, leaving her cold and bare.

"Feeling better?" He asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers didn't pull back entirely, choosing instead to linger against her jaw.

Lily nodded, suddenly feeling thoroughly exhausted and a good bit ashamed about the entire fiasco. Her eyes were trained on the wet patch that her tears had left on James's shirt, and it made her want to hide her face in there again. But she swallowed back the irrational thought, wringing her hands together as she tried to avoid his gaze, knowing all he had for her were questions—and rightfully so.

It was useless, of course, and a resigned sigh escaped her lips when two fingers hooked under her chin to direct her eyes back to his.

"Are you going to talk now?"

"About what?" Lily evaded, wanting to cry once more, but for different reasons altogether.

His eyes narrowed. "Liz."

"I don't—"

"How do you know Mary MacDonald?" James questioned on a sigh, shifting his hands to hold hers, effectively stopping her nervous movements. He lightly rubbed his thumb along her knuckles in an effort to ease the tension out of her.

Lily gulped, taking a deep, shuddering breath. This was it. She would have to tell him now.

Maybe he would be disgusted with her, or maybe he'd understand why she did it. But Lily would hear him, no matter what, because she knew she deserved anything and _everything_ that came out of his mouth. There was only one thing she had to think about right now: Mary's safety.

And James Potter could hand her over to Riddle if he wanted, so long as he was willing to help her free Mary.

"James, I—Mary was—she's my friend," Lily started, heart palpitating so hard, she was certain it could be heard all the way to the Gryffindor castle.

James nodded patiently. He had gathered as much from the way she had broken down. "At the palace?" he questioned.

"Yes," she nodded. Then, before she could talk herself out of it like a coward, she continued, "She also helped me escape from Riddle. And now she's been caught, and she's going to be _hanged!_ And I can't _do_ anything even though I'm the pri—"

"Wait a second," James cut her off, and Lily couldn't hold back the loud exhale that escaped her. Whether it was out of relief or frustration, she did not know. Luckily, he seemed to ignore it and frowned, "Are you saying that Riddle is going to hang MacDonald because she helped you escape after you stole a bloody _ring?_ "

The disbelief on his face set the gears in her head working again.

Lily blinked. She had completely forgotten about the lie she had told the Marauders. _Of course,_ he would think that that's why she had run away from the castle. Of course, that would seem like the only logical explanation.

She hated to even think it, but Lily wasn't as stupid as to doubt that as long as the truth was not out, the Marauders would be more willing to help her save Mary. Perhaps they would help her even if they knew the truth—most likely they would—but this was not the right time to take that call, take that risk. It was her honesty weighed against her best friend's life.

It was not a dilemma at all.

But she certainly felt like a coward, no matter all the justifications inside her head. She didn't want to do this, didn't want to lie to the only person who made her feel _alive_ , like she was special because someone like him cared for her.

But even though Lily felt disgusted with herself for—there really was no other word— _using_ him, she nodded. "Yes. Yes, I think that's why he is going to—to hang her."

James was already shaking his head even before she'd finished.

"No, no. That doesn't mean anything. You ran away _days_ ago, and it was just a ring. If he hasn't even bothered to put up posters of you or have his guards question anyone about you, I don't think he'd be bothered to _hang_ someone for it." He squeezed her hand reassuringly, "Don't blame yourself for this. There could be a thousand other reasons for his cruelty. It doesn't have to be something related to you."

But it _did_ , Lily thought remorsefully. She knew James was being nice and thinking logically, but it did not help when all she felt was the guilt churning away in her stomach and the growing dread that each passing second brought with it.

She did not have time for this. Mary was going to be hanged within two days, and she had to do something about it.

"That doesn't matter, James!" Lily implored, "we have to do something. Mary needs our help—she needs me. I _know_ you can do something. Please tell me that you can."

"Okay, okay, let me think," James said, running a hand through his hair thoughtfully. It was not easy. He really did not know what to do. Liz was—she was putting too much faith in him, giving him too much credit. He could easily tell her that Mary's fate was not in their hands anymore, but…the way she was looking at him. Fearful. Hopeful.

James had already given up contemplating the reasons behind the tugs in his heart whenever he saw her upset or worried. He was past that point, and it really made no sense for him to sit there and ask himself questions that required much more attention than he was willing to give them at the moment.

And so, he didn't stop to think about why he didn't just refuse her.

He simply knew he couldn't.

"I—I could try…something," James started, and hastily continued when he saw the eagerness building in her green eyes, "but it's not that easy, Liz. Stealing something and freeing a supposed prisoner are two completely different things. Add to that the fact that none of us Marauders have ever been to the Gryffindor palace, and it just decreases our chances of success. And it's not like we can ask Peter to come with us; it'll be too suspicious—"

"I'll go with you!" she said quickly, as if the words were just waiting to spring out of her. Something inside his chest rattled, and he knew it to be fear. But she nodded vehemently. "I'll go with you to the castle. I know the place and it won't be too much of a problem to free Mary then."

His stomach had dropped, uncomfortable darkness brewing inside _._ "It's not—you can't—it's really _dangerous,_ " he said, eyes wide. "I don't think that's such a great idea."

"She's my _friend,_ James. She's like my sister! I can't just sit back and watch while she gets sent to the gallows simply because it's dangerous!" Lily exploded, almost shaking with fervor. She fixed him with a glower that left no room for argument. "That's the point, isn't it? Standing up against injustice? If Sirius and Remus had been in danger, would you have just sat still and watched?"

She had him there. She had pressed a point that she knew he wouldn't be able to refute.

James sighed resignedly. Even disliking the fact that she was so prepared to walk to her doom, he felt himself regarding Liz with newfound respect. "Okay. Alright. You can come with us," he relented, looking none too pleased about it.

With a strangled breath of relief, Lily threw her arms around him in a grateful embrace. "Thank you so much!" she cried, and after getting over his initial shock, James returned the hug, arms encircling her waist without hesitation.

Lily knew all too well that there was a high probability that she wouldn't be returning from the palace once she went. But she wasn't as selfish as to risk her friend's life for her own freedom.

"For the record, I don't like this," James grumbled, pulling back after a few seconds.

She bit her lip. "I know."

He nodded, and then looked at her with a frown. "But you—you have to understand that I can't—I can't promise anything, all right? I mean, I'll talk to Sirius and Remus about this and everything, but you must understand that carrying out something like this is going to be hard, and I cannot guarantee our success."

"I do. I understand," Lily said immediately, "but thank you anyway. For trying."

James sighed heavily, shaking his head as he got up from the dirty ground. He brushed the dust from his pants. "Come on, let's go. We've been in here long enough. Remus and Sirius must be wondering where we are." He reached out and offered his hand to her, which she took easily.

"Yea, you're right," Lily stood up, brushing her own trousers and pulling the hood back over her head. She picked up the bag that James had dropped earlier. "I really shouldn't have run off like that. They're probably—why are you looking at me like that?" she stopped, noticing the soft quirk of James's lips. It became even more noticeable when the pair stepped out of the alley and into the moonlight.

"Nothing." His grin grew enigmatically as he looked away.

"That's not an answer."

"I suppose you just—feel different," he shrugged, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

"Different?"

"Yes. But not in a bad way."

"Will you elaborate?"

"Something about you has changed. You're more—open, free now. Like you're not scared to voice your thoughts or say what you want to," his eyes were bright as he looked at her, "half the time I'm terrified because I don't know what to expect from you. Even the _way_ you talk has changed."

If her heart hadn't been aching still, Lily would have laughed. "The way I _talk_?"

He shrugged again, looking a bit embarrassed now. "You know what I mean."

She did, kind of. She wished he would stop saying such things or looking at her like that though—a big part of her also _didn't_ want him to stop—because then she didn't know how she would face what was to come; the heartbreak that she was etching onto stone with her own hands.

"Well, it had to happen sometime," she smiled, pushing the thoughts away.

"I'm glad it was sooner rather than later," James grinned, encouraged by her smile. "I've always believed holding your thoughts in is extremely unhealthy. Haven't you seen how all the royal families have upturned noses? I'm sure it has come from indigestion. All because of the forced politeness."

"Well, that's certainly an interesting theory," Lily said, chortling a bit. "You might just be right."

She got lost in her thoughts then, once again returning back to how he was being so incredibly kind and sweet to her while she lied through her teeth, the poison of her words now leaving a bitter taste in her mouth every time she spoke.

James, misinterpreting her silence, ran his hand through his hair and squeezed her shoulder. "Look, don't worry about your friend. Everything's going to be fine."

"I know," Lily said, even though she didn't. Even though she knew James didn't either.

About fifteen minutes later, the princess and the Marauder were making their way inside Godric's Hollow, hearts full of heaviness and heads full of thoughts. The streets had been mostly empty, the commoners having retreated to their houses close to sunset. The moon was up in the sky now, illuminating their figures as the pair walked, a comfortable silence surrounding them.

It went without saying that something big had changed between them, a certain shift that no amount of drinking or talking had been able to bring about. Lily could feel it, and James was more than aware of it.

It was somehow stronger and more delicate than before at the same time.

"Oh, thank heavens! Finally!" Sirius huffed out a breath as they entered the house. "We were just about to go look for you two. What the bloody hell took so long? Why do you _always_ take so long whenever we leave you two together?" His face was pulled into a frown, eyes glaring and displeased.

"Sirius," Remus placed a hand on his friend's shoulder before gently shaking his head. His blue eyes took in James and Liz's solemn expressions and he regarded them worriedly. "Is everything okay? What happened?"

With a fleeting glance at the girl beside him, who was starting to look more and more ashen-faced by each passing second, James took a deep breath. "Sirius, Remus," he said, "we are going to break into the Gryffindor palace."


	13. Brave Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! We're halfway through the fic. Sending lots of love and hugs to everybody who has been reading and commenting so far. You guys keep me going. Onward now!

**Deception and Disguise**

**Chapter 13 – Brave Heart**

* * *

As James finished explaining everything to Sirius and Remus, Lily felt a hand drop onto her shoulder gently.

Slightly startled because she'd disappeared inside her own head for a while, she looked up, eyelashes sticking together thanks to the tears that clung to them stubbornly. She swiped her fingers over her eyes to do away with the moisture.

Sirius stared back at her, grey eyes hard and stormy, even as a small crooked smile pulled at his lips. "It'll be okay, love," he murmured softly, ruffling up her hair a little.

She tried to return his smile, and after much effort, hoped that she pulled off something that looked better than a grimace. Unable to really open her mouth and thank him—even though she wanted to—Lily shifted her gaze so that it rested on Remus.

The man peered at her with compassion as he inclined his head slightly to the right, giving a gentle nod of his head to show his support. The gesture bloomed a little warmth in her heart, and Lily offered him a watery smile in return.

"Sirius is right—we'll save her, don't worry," he said.

And then, her eyes dutifully traveled to the last occupant in the room, watching as James leaned against the wall silently. The fingers of his left hand were quietly playing with his favorite dagger—the blade so sharp that it could just as easily chop those fingers off. Lily felt her heart skip a beat.

He was staring at her. Unblinking.

The intensity in his eyes could have burned her as she stood on her spot, but she did not look away. Something about the blazing purpose in them made Lily draw in a long, deep breath, feeling determination settle strong and stubborn inside her. She wasn't going to cry about this—not anymore.

She was going to act.

As the lump in her throat morphed into anger—at her uncle, at the unfairness of it all—James nodded at her, his hard expression now mirrored on her face. She understood his message: if she wanted to win this battle with Riddle, she would have to stop being a weakling. She would have to face him head-on.

And so, Lily nodded back silently. He was right.

"Okay, so what are we going to do?" she asked, breaking the heavy silence in the room.

"Uh," Remus exchanged an uneasy look with the other two Marauders before turning back to her with a solemn expression. "Listen Liz, we want to help—we really do—but, you have to understand that we've never been to the castle before, and—"

"She wants to come with us," James cut in. And though he had spoken in a flat voice, it wasn't hard for Remus to identify the underlying exasperation, frustration, and displeasure laced into the tone. "She knows the palace, and she wants to accompany us."

"But—"

"Please, Remus, you have to understand," Liz pleaded, taking a step forward, "she's my friend! I have to do this for her."

"I—okay," he acquiesced on a resigned sigh, suspecting he hardly had a say in the matter. "Okay. I understand. But that takes care of only one of our problems. There is still plenty to go through. We only have two days because she's sentenced for the third. And in such little time, we'll have to train, get more costumes, come up with a witty background story, and make a bloody brilliant plan." He ticked off on his fingers as he spoke.

Lily latched onto a particular requirement. "We need to train?"

"Well, of course," Sirius replied with a shrug. "Manoeuvring through a palace full of experienced guards is no child's play. So, unless we want to be squeezed into a pulp, we'll have to train and practice. Besides, it won't take much time—it's the costumes and the plan we need to take care of."

"Would we have to…hurt people?" she asked, knowing it was stupid, that she shouldn't have had compassion for anyone inside those gates after what she'd endured. But the thought of actually doing something radical like hurting another human being turned her stomach.

Thankfully, none of the Marauders colored her a fool for it. "No. We don't—I mean, not unless you really _have_ to. If it came to—" Remus paused.

"If it came to someone killing _you_ , then yeah, hurt them," James added.

Lily swallowed to get rid of the dryness in her mouth. Nodded.

She then tuned out the conversation between the Marauders as they started talking about where they would get the disguises from, and what would be a good story to back them up. Her mind was buzzing, preoccupied with other thoughts—with Sirius's words, to be exact. Of course, these men thought that she at least had the basic experience at things like stealth and reflexes, if not more. As a supposed thief, it was expected of her.

They were deluded.

She chomped on her lip nervously, not knowing how to voice her apprehensions without giving herself away. Hearing Sirius point out the facts to her thrust the harsh reality in her face—she knew _nothing._ Either she would be caught, or be killed within seconds. And what would happen to Mary, then? Would the Marauders still save her? Would Mary tell them the truth if they did? Would they hate her after they found out? Would James still—

"Liz! Snap out of it!" Sirius waved his hands wildly in front of her face, and Lily crashed back into herself.

"I—what?"

A few feet away, James was staring at her with a frown creasing his brows. "I asked if you were okay with the plan."

"Plan?" her voice was scratchy, throat sore from all the crying earlier. The Marauders were looking expectantly at her, and that only made the redness creep up faster. "I, um—I wasn't—"

"Yea, we know," James sighed. "You can't allow yourself to get distracted, Liz. Every part of what happens now is important. Every decision or strategy could be the one our life and success hinge on."

"You're right. I apologize." James opened his mouth to say something more, but Lily shook her head, feeling defeated, drained, tired. "I don't think I'm feeling too well right now. We—we can start training tomorrow, and I give you my word to be attentive. But today's just been—" she stopped, inhaling a shaky breath as a lump grew in her throat. And then she was turning around and disappearing up the stairs.

"What the hell was that?" Sirius asked once Liz had left. He noticed the thoughtful frown puckering the corner of James's lips as his eyes remained trained on the stairs leading to the first floor. Remus seemed to be as clueless as Sirius; he shrugged, casting a fleeting glance at James every few seconds.

"I—I'll just be back," James said distractedly, and without waiting for a response, left the room as well.

"And I repeat myself: What the _hell_ was that?" Sirius crossed his arms over his chest.

Remus shook his head, clearly at a loss for words. They'd always known that their job was dangerous, and they'd often broken into palaces. Granted, saving someone who was locked up inside was a whole different matter and much riskier, but somehow, the tension between James and Liz had felt like something deeper. Something beyond what he or Sirius could comprehend right then.

**********

"Liz?"

Lily turned around at the sound of his voice, eyes squinting to make out his silhouette. Her open hair was whipping around her face with the breeze on the terrace as she hugged herself around the stomach. With fresh air in her lungs and the blanket of peaceful silence around her, she found it easier to breathe. "James?"

"I didn't think you'd be out here; expected you to have gone to your room," he said, crossing the threshold to stand beside her. He noticed the goosebumps rising up her bare arms and controlled his sudden, stupid urge of pulling her into his chest.

She didn't reply. She didn't have to; he understood.

"Are you okay?" he asked after a few seconds, only to wince inwardly as the words left his mouth. _Idiot._ "I mean, apart from the obvious. Isn't this what you wanted? Everything's going to be fine. We'll save her."

But she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were staring ahead into the inky night, lips pursed tightly as she held herself. He could almost see the storm of thoughts and emotions brewing inside her head.

Not giving himself a chance to think through it, James reached out—unsure, wary, hesitant—and touched her arm. He knew it was stupid; they'd spent a good several minutes holding each other today, but somehow, this felt different.

Her skin was cold and his fingers warm. He gently brushed them over her arm, ignoring the tension in her muscles, and found her hand. Liz finally looked at him when his fingers interlaced with hers, her jaw clenched tight. James tried to offer her a reassuring smile, and she opened her mouth, only for a shuddering breath to escape into the air.

"I—I can't," Lily said, shaking her head numbly. She would have cried—would've bawled her eyes out—but she had vowed not to anymore. She had to be strong. She _was_ strong.

"You can't what?" James tugged on her hand until her body was facing his.

"This," she exhaled, eyes skimming over his face. Darting. "I can't do this. It's terrifying—and what if she _dies?_ I don't—I don't _know_ anything, James. I've never done this. But all of you have _,_ and I feel like the—the guilt is just tearing me up from inside, and I know I have to save her, but I can't even fight _myself_ , how will I—"

"Hey, shh," James stopped her, his hands drifting upwards to cup her face, fingers curling into her hair. Lily's eyes finally stopped jumping around and locked with his. The hazel looked greener in the darkness. They were burning into her soul. "Calm down. I've told you before and I'm telling you again: _don't_ take the blame for this. This was not in your hands. You couldn't have stopped it from happening." He was staring down at her almost sternly now. "You're doing what you can to help her, okay? And maybe you're not the best at fighting, and maybe this won't work, but at least you'll know that you tried. And that's more than most people would do for their friends."

A beat passed, and Lily sucked in a breath.

"You would," her voice was too soft and felt foreign even to her own ears. But she didn't know how to be any louder; the calm in the air was too fragile to handle carelessly. She didn't have to look at James to know that she had his undivided attention. "You would do it, too. For Sirius and Remus."

 _For me_ , she didn't say.

He didn't deny it. "I would. For them."

_For you._

James watched her carefully. The way her pale skin almost shone in the dark, the way a small, sad smile pulled at her full lips, the way her green eyes searched his for something. Searching. Searching. Searching.

He wondered if he should bring up what had almost happened yesterday, but it now felt like a story of a different lifetime. The tentative _something_ that they had built did not have a place in the cruel realities brought on by today.

He held his breath as Liz opened her mouth, looked she was about to say something.

"James, we should—" she stopped short, shook her head, and finally sighed. "Nothing. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight."

He knew he should've called out to her, stopped her. What had she been about to say? Had it been important? Had her mind gone to the same place that his had? He should've asked her to stay and finish what she'd begun. But he didn't. He didn't know why—he just…didn't.

And with a nod of her head, she was gone.

**********

"Let's warm ourselves up first," Sirius said. All four occupants of Godric's Hollow were huddled together in the large living area, determination plucking off of them in waves. "I think we should start with running."

Lily nodded her head slowly, exhaling a huff of air. Running didn't sound too bad; she had run all the way from the palace to the abandoned wheelbarrow in a single night, after all. Running she could do.

At least she could do _something._

"Alright, then," James said, rubbing his hands together. "Let's go."

He crossed the room, walking straight ahead towards the staircase instead of the door leading outside. But suddenly, at the last moment, he took a sharp left turn, moving _behind_ the steps she'd scaled several times, and then Lily's view of him was blocked. She frowned in confusion; she hadn't known that there was a room back there.

Her feet padded across the floor as she traced his footsteps, and the frown on her face further deepened when she saw that there was nothing but a solid-looking wall behind the staircase.

James had just…disappeared?

"What—?" Lily looked back to find the two other Marauders regarding her with amusement. She raised her hand to lamely gesture at the wall. "Where did he go?"

"Oh? He isn't there?" Sirius asked with wide innocent eyes that looked too comical to be real. Lily pursed her lips disapprovingly and glared at him from across the room.

"Sirius."

Remus laughed, walking past a smirking Sirius to stand beside her. "It's just a hidden doorway, Liz. An extra precaution for if Riddle were to ever find out about us. It leads us to the back of the house. A handy little idea we came up with a few years ago."

"Wow," Lily breathed, feeling a little winded at the ingenuity. "How does it work?"

"Here, you just push against the wall and slide it to the right," he answered, demonstrating what he'd said. With a light force and a purposeful shove to the right, the wall smoothly slid open like just another door, revealing the gleaming sun outside. Lily was beyond amazed.

"I thought you'd never come out," James's voice greeted them. He had his arms crossed over his chest impatiently, one eyebrow raised. "Are we going to start or what?"

"James takes training a bit too seriously. Don't be shocked," Sirius muttered into her ear as he walked outside into the sun. Lily hadn't known the surprise on her face had been thatevident, and she chuckled to herself, following him out.

Their little group walked on for a few minutes until they were in the middle of a relatively clear meadow. The ground under her feet was slightly uphill, and Lily felt a warm summer breeze kiss her face.

"Let's race up to The Willow first, yeah?" Sirius suggested, bouncing on the balls of his feet eagerly. She smiled at the look of childish excitement on his face. It felt nice— _better_ —to have something to distract her from the fear clawing at her insides. She was going to save Mary. She just had to believe in herself, believe in the Marauders. She figured adrenaline-filled training would give her a better chance at saving her friend than grief-filled tears ever could.

"Sounds good to me," Remus agreed with a nod.

"I don't know where The Willow is!" Lily blurted, just having realized the fact.

"That's okay, you can just follow us," Sirius shrugged.

"But if I follow you, that leaves no chance for me to win the race!"

" _Please,"_ he laughed, shaking his hair back from his eyes. "You could never win a race while Sirius Black is in company. So, it won't make a difference."

Her eyes narrowed, and she suppressed the smile tugging at her lips. "It's still unfair."

"Just run with me," James spoke up to her right. Lily whipped her head to him, only to find that he was strategically avoiding her eye. "Let's get this started with, yeah?" he added, dragging his feet through the grass to make a starting line.

Lily nodded and came to stand beside him, completely missing the significant looks that were shared between Sirius and Remus.

"So, we race up to The Willow and touch the trunk— _without_ any sort of cheating, preferably," James said, throwing a pointed look at his grey-eyed best mate.

"I'd _never_ —"

"On the count of three!" Remus prompted loudly, rolling his eyes. "One! Two! _Three_!"

And then they were off.

The wind howled against Lily's ears, her blood pounding in her head as she ran. She felt rejuvenated, energetic. _Alive._ The flush on her cheeks grew darker by the second, her chest heaving, but her legs kept moving. She almost felt unstoppable, even with the sun beating down on her, sweat forming on her forehead, rolling down her back.

"Losers!" Sirius screamed at the top of his lungs, grinning madly as he rushed past her. A strangled chuckle burst out of her at his joy.

But her legs were quickly tiring, and soon she saw Remus speeding by her from her peripheral vision as well.

"Come on, Liz!" he encouraged, eyes bright.

The muscles in her thighs were screaming in protest by now, and Lily knew she would soon need to stop to catch her breath. She had never run like this in her life. A childish sort of petulance was taking over her—didn't they understand that she was not accustomed to so much exertion? Probably not.

The overwhelming sensation of sluggishness in her limbs finally forced her to stop, and she hunched over, breathing in deeply through her mouth.

"What the hell are you doing?" James's voice, half-aghast, half-laughing was suddenly at her ear. His breath was a puff of warmth on her cheek, littering goosebumps over her arms. Panting, hands still on her knees, Lily looked up at him, noting his barely winded form with no small amount of jealousy. She almost whined when he slipped his hand into hers and tugged energetically. "Come on! Move your legs, Liz!" he shouted, pulling her behind him.

"I'm tired!" Lily bellowed, grimacing at the feeling of heaviness in her legs. "I can't—"

"Yes, you _can,_ " James looked over his shoulder with a bright grin. Lily's eyes widened at the sight, feeling like she was in some vivid dream. The way the sun gleamed behind his head, his smile directed at her, the wind breezing through his hair—it was a surreally beautiful picture. "You can run. You're just being lazy."

"I am _not_ being—"

"Prove it."

And there it was; him, knowing exactly how to push her buttons and not feeling the slightest bit of hesitation doing so. She knew he caught the spark in her eyes when he smirked.

"Fine," she said, suddenly finding a new burst of energy in her legs. Her hand still clasped tightly around James's, she pulled him along, soon spotting the sprinting figures of Remus and Sirius in the distance.

There were two things the princess immediately noticed after that; the good thing was that both the Marauders were tired by this point, their movements much slower than before; the bad thing, however, was that she could spot the willow tree, too. If they were not fast enough, Sirius would get to it first.

"We can catch up!" James's voice boomed from her right. She redirected her attention back to him. His hair was sticking up in all directions—more so than usual—hazel eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, and a wild grin adorning his face as he tugged her along, his long legs covering almost double the distance hers were able to in one step.

"How are you…not…getting tired?" Lily asked breathlessly as she wound her fingers more tightly with his in an effort to not fall behind. It was when the question left her lips that she heard the smile in her voice. She was grinning, too.

"Experience. To win in a race with those two, you have to always start off slow. Sirius uses up all his energy in the first few minutes, and I have a feeling Remus just lets him win. Now come on!" He laughed, dragging her.

As they passed by Remus, who was slow jogging at this point, Lily laughed giddily.

"Keep going, Remus!" she shouted over her shoulder, the words coming out fast and euphoric. He raised his thumb to show that he had heard her.

"Bloody…tree…I swear…it keeps getting…farther and—"

"Oi, mate! Talking to yourself?" James teased, flicking the back of Sirius's head as they reached him. The tree was only a few feet away, and Sirius's eyes widened at the sight of James and Lily. They had caught up with him. "You keep doing that, and Riddle will have a feast," James clicked his tongue.

"We'll see who wins now!" Lily smirked cheekily, giving a quick wave of her hand as they finally ran past him.

" _No_!" Sirius yelled in dramatic despair as he watched the pair of them touch the tree trunk before him. He plopped down onto the grass in fatigue, breathing heavily through his nose and mouth, a disgruntled expression on his face. "This is not possible!"

"Oh, get…over it, Sirius. We're just…better than you," Lily managed, grinning as she looked up at James's exuberant face. His chest was heaving, too, but he was undoubtedly in a better shape than her. As the laughter eventually died out, James finally slipped his hand out of hers, and she tried not to feel too disappointed about it.

**********

"Okay, so what's next?" Remus asked a few moments later after everyone had had a chance to catch their breath, and Sirius had stopped grumbling obscenities.

"Knife throwing."

Lily's head whirled around at the answer. Eyes wide, she stared at James's expressionless face, her heartbeat speeding up again. Only this time, it was for a very different reason. "Knife throwing? Why do we need to know how to throw knives?"

"It's more for defense than anything else," he explained patiently, "but as I said before, if worse comes to worst, we might not have a choice. It's important to understand that sometimes it's either you or them. And in this case, we all know that neither Riddle nor his guards would have any qualms about killing us."

Lily bit her lip and swallowed her anxiety.

She wasn't so sure about James's hypothesis. The king wouldn't have kept her alive for almost eighteen years if he didn't expect some sort of loss at her death. But then again, it had become difficult for her to foresee her uncle's actions anymore; as far as she knew, he still hadn't alerted anyone of her disappearance. What _was_ that man planning? On the one hand, he was practically letting her go free by not spreading the news of her escape, and on the other hand, he was hanging someone in his anger?

It was confusing. Frustrating. Sick.

"I'll go first," James's voice cut through her train of thoughts again. With a confident expression, he stepped a few feet away from The Willow, right in front of the tree's knot, and pulled out a dagger from the inside of his boot. Lily immediately recognized the silver handle—it was the same one he'd been fiddling with last night.

She watched in rapture as he pulled his arm back, his forefinger and thumb easily keeping the knife balanced, and just as the blade reached near his shoulder, he jerked his hand forward again, letting the knife soar through the air like a flash of light. Before her eyes even had the time to follow the movement, the knife had reached its destination.

The blade was sticking out from the center of the knot, handle vibrating lightly.

Her mouth hung open in awe. She'd never seen anything so skillful, captivating, and _practiced_ before in her life. Everything she had seen and done at the palace had always been safe, dull, and monotonous. In a weird, new, exciting way, watching him throw the knife made her greedy.

She wanted to do that, too.

James watched from the corner of his eye as Liz's gaze remained trained on the knife handle sticking out of the tree trunk. Her face held an expression of admiration—an expression that made him feel more pleased than was healthy. He bit his cheek, trying to hold in the grin as he walked over to the tree to retrieve his dagger. "You're up next, Remus."

For the next few minutes, Lily observed as the remaining two Marauders took their turns at knife throwing. Even though they were both successful at hitting the knot, none of their throws were as perfect and clean as James's. It soon became obvious as to who was used to the feeling of the handle more. The way James's long fingers held the knife, and the easiness with which he threw it kept her wondering if she would _ever_ be able to achieve that.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, Lily sighed. She wouldn't _need_ to throw knives anymore when she returned to the palace.

"Alright, Liz. Your turn," Sirius said, passing the knife to Lily as he stepped back.

The blade felt cool against her palm as she walked over to position herself. It was heavier than it looked, Lily realized, picking up the dagger by its handle. She licked her lips nervously, feeling her heart pound somewhere near her throat. Tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, she looked up.

The dark tree knot was staring back at her.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes for a second before blinking them open. Clutching the handle in her hand, she brought her arm back, trying to copy the movements that she had observed, and then swung the knife forward, watching with bated breath as it flew, flew, flew through the air…

…and brushed the trunk before falling on the ground.

She exhaled in disappointment, unable to stop embarrassment from flooding her cheeks. She couldn't even hit the tree, let alone the knot. She felt useless, helpless, dejected—

Then why was Sirius whooping?

"Way to go, Liz! That was great!" He shouted, picking her up suddenly and twirling her around. "You're going to be amazing," he grinned, setting her on her feet again when she squealed.

"What?" she was incredulous. Her eyes snapped from one face to another. Remus was beaming happily, and James was smiling proudly as well. What the hell was going _on?_ "That was awful! The knife didn't even hit the tree!" she exclaimed, wondering if these men had missed the entire thing.

The only problem with that logic was that the dagger still lay innocently on the grass, just feet away from the trunk of the tree.

"No, it didn't hit the tree," James agreed with a nod, "but considering that this was the first time you threw a knife, it was ten times better than what most people do. The first time Sirius threw a knife, he almost hit me in the eye—and I was standing _behind_ him. So, good job."

Lily's eyebrows rose up on their own accord. He was serious? She was actually…good at this? Their grinning faces told her that she was.

"But I'm still nowhere near ready. I think it would be nice to know that I can at least hit the trunk."

"That's true," Remus agreed with a chuckle. His gaze found Sirius's and he gave an inconspicuous, but meaningful inclination of his head, blue eyes suddenly gleaming. He turned back to Lily. "You _do_ need quite some practice. And given that you and James won the race, Sirius and I are going to run back to the house and get started on lunch—try to improve our time, you know. Besides, James is the best knife thrower amongst the three of us. He'll be able to help you."

"Oh, yes," Sirius added, catching on. "The best. James loves that knife so much, he practically sleeps with it. No one better to teach you at all."

Remus subtly rolled his eyes—Sirius was overdoing it so much.

"Okay then, we'll just be—"

"No, wait!"

"—going now. Bye!" They waved, practically fleeing from sight. Lily snapped her mouth shut, raising a dubious brow at their disappearing forms.

"What was _that_?" she asked, turning back to look at James, who, much to her fascination, was glaring daggers into the distance.

"I have _no_ idea," he answered, almost growling under his breath. He sighed after a few moments, shaking his head as he looked back at her. "Forget about them. Let's continue practicing, yea?"

Lily nodded, walking forward to pick up the fallen dagger from the ground.

"So, what am I doing wrong?" she asked, walking back and waving the knife in front of his face.

What she wasn't expecting was for James to suddenly grabbed her wrist and twist her arm behind her back. She gasped, the handle falling loose from her fingers and dropping to the ground silently. He yanked her closer, her body almost slamming into his, and Lily cringed at the sudden motion.

"James, what—"

" _This_ is what you're doing wrong," he explained quietly, his hazel eyes intense and serious. " _Never_ hold something as dangerous as a knife loosely in your hand. You need to have a firm grip, need to be awake, and alert. If you're not, someone can grab you from behind, snatch the knife, and just as easily slice your throat with the same blade."

Lily gulped—the picture he was painting was vivid, terrifying, and at the same time, entirely realistic. He was right.

"Okay," her voice came out as little more than a squeak. She cleared her throat. "Okay."

James nodded, letting go of her hand and stepping back. "Good," he said, picking up the knife once more. "Give it another try."

Lily took the knife he extended, her fingers shaking a little, but keeping a tight grip on the handle this time. She took her position in front of the tree again.

"Release the tension from here," James whispered, mouth close to her ear, his hands resting on her stiff shoulders. An unexpected shiver ran up her body at the contact, at the heat she felt behind her, and she was eternally grateful when he didn't mention anything about it. "If you keep your body so wound up, your aim is bound to go wrong—you'll end up throwing it farther than you want. Relax, Liz."

Lily wanted to, but she could hardly focus with his breath tickling over her skin like that. Yet, she gave a jerky nod of her head, exhaling slowly, and feeling the tension unwind from her shoulders.

"Now slowly pull your arm back to your shoulder, and use that force to throw it forward again," he instructed, moving his hands from her shoulders to wrap them around her fingers on the knife handle. He shifted her hand until it was positioned properly and then took a step back. "There. Now go."

"Okay," Lily said, pulling her arm back as he explained. With her heart thudding painfully hard against her chest, she thrust the knife forward once it reached her shoulder, and watched with a feeling of fearful anticipation as it left her hand smoothly, cutting through the air as it went.

She felt James's hand squeeze hers right before she saw it happen.

The dagger struck the tree knot.

Barely, but it did.

Her entire body sagged in relief at the sight, and without thinking, Lily turned around dropped her head onto James's shoulder gratefully, arms coming around his waist to wrap him in a hug. She caught a whiff of sweat, grass, wood, and James, and nothing had ever smelled more like home.

"We're going to save her, right?" Lily asked, her voice a little muffled.

James's arm lightly encircled her shoulders, lips pressing to the top of her head. "We're going to save her," he promised.


	14. A Palace of Secrets

**Deception and Disguise**

**Chapter 14 – A Palace of Secrets**

* * *

"Remus?"

"Hm?"

"Do you—do you think I should tell her?"

The brush stilled in Remus’s hand as he raised his head to look at Sirius. Setting aside the boot he’d been cleaning, he gave the question full attention. "Tell who about what, exactly?"

"Liz, of course!" Sirius clarified with a huff, turning over on his mattress so that he could face Remus. His dark eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully, and Remus realized that whatever this was, it’d been bothering him for quite some time. After a beat of silence, he continued. "Do you think I should tell her about—about…you know, my past?"

Remus started, now completely alert. He hadn’t missed the way vulnerability had rung through Sirius’s words. "You don't have to tell her anything if you don't want to. No one's going to force you to do it.”

“But I’m asking you if you think I should.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Liz is more than trustworthy enough.”

"I know that," Sirius sighed, sitting up and leaning on the wall behind him, arms draped over his knees. Grey eyes trailed to the floor meekly, and Remus was suddenly reminded of the boy he had met nine years ago, covered in grime and sporting a bleeding lip with torn clothes. The picture wrenched at his heart, gnawing menacingly until he promptly shut it out. "What if…what if she doesn't accept me? What if she hates me after I tell her?"

"She won't." The answer was short. Firm.

"How do you know that, huh?" Sirius continued, cheeks flushing from defensive anger. “Who I am, where I come from—it’s not entirely pleasant, is it?”

Remus sighed inwardly. There was no talking to Sirius when he was like this. He was lashing out, just as he had nine years ago. And there was only one person who could make him see sense, just the same as last time.

"Come on." He stood up with a glare, feeling almost annoyed at having to do this. He was tired from the day's training and strategizing. They’d all gone over the plan at least ten times for tomorrow, and now he wanted to _sleep._ But here he was, convincing his moronic friend about things that were nothing short of obvious. "Follow me."

"Where—?"

"Just walk, would you?"

Sirius bit his cheek in irritation but got up anyway. He had already followed Remus out the room and up the staircase when he finally realized where they were headed. He glared at the back of Remus's head, knowing exactly what the Marauder planned on doing.

Feeling quite like a child being taken to his parent for punishment, Sirius stepped onto the terrace, wondering if he should just turn back around and leave.

"James, I need your help,” Remus said before he could have escaped. The stars in the sky seemed especially dim that night, plunging the kingdom into darkness as the cool air floated around them.

A lone figure with messy black hair was lying on the ledge, arms crossed behind his head. "Help with what?" James asked without looking up.

Remus took a deep breath. "Sirius wants to tell Liz about…about what happened."

The change in the atmosphere was sudden, but not unexpected. Tension strung palpably across the space between them; Sirius could hear even the light whooshing of the wind as loud as a howl. Slowly, James opened his eyes and stood up.

"I see. And what about it?" He was staring straight at Sirius, almost as if daring him to express his anxious thoughts.

It was intimidating, but Sirius did not look away. He hadn’t spent so many years with these men for nothing.

"And," Remus continued, stretching out the word, "he thinks Liz is going to hate him because of his past. I've tried talking to him, but nothing penetrates his thick skull. Reckon he’s in one of those moods."

Sirius glowered—‘those moods’ not sitting well with him at all—but Remus didn’t even spare him a glance.

James sighed, running a hand over his face. He looked exhausted. Exasperated. "Really, mate?" His voice was incredulous. "I didn't think this would ever be an issue again. What on earth is wrong with you? Have you lost your head? Can you not see Remus and I standing here with you as we've done for the past nine years?"

Affection and embarrassment fought with each other inside Sirius’s chest. "It's different," he sighed, deflating like a balloon.

"It's really not.”

"It is! Not everyone's like you two, okay? Not everyone understands! She might not!"

"I might not what?"

The three men visibly jumped in surprise at the sound of her voice. They whipped their heads around, eyes locked onto the threshold, where Liz stood—tired, but curious.

She seemed slightly taken aback by their reactions, but recovered quickly, walking onto the terrace with purpose. Once she’d come to stand beside Remus, shrewd green eyes appraised all of them in turns. "What’s the matter? I assume you were talking about me. So, tell me. What might I not understand?"

The Marauders stared at each other with questioning looks, unsure of whether it was safe to tell Liz or not. Sirius's heart was beating fast, almost as if trying to jump out of his chest. He didn't understand why—it had been just close to a week—but she'd become like a sister to him. Her kind eyes, genuine smile, sharp wit—it was all too good and pure _._

He didn't want to taint it with his past. It terrified him.

Her friend was about to be hanged the next morning, and the hatred he had seen in her eyes for Riddle—Sirius would not be able to bear it if she ever harbored the same feeling for him. He knew he had never done such a thing, would _never_ do such a thing, but his blood was the same. The same arrogant, snobbish, and ruthless _royalty_ blood.

She’d hate him.

He took a deep breath and looked up, straight at her. Liz's head was slightly inclined, her eyes patient and gentle. He couldn't lie to her. He _wouldn't_ lie to her. He was not his family.

"Liz," Sirius began, his voice hoarser than usual. He cleared his throat. "There’s something you need to know…about my past."

Lily licked her lips, nodding silently. She remembered that night on the terrace when she had spoken to James, when he had seemed so reluctant to talk about Sirius's past. At the time, she had known that this was not a topic to be taken lightly. But seeing the solemn faces of the Marauders now—especially Sirius's—Lily realized just how wrong she’d been. This matter seemed ten times heavier than she’d thought. And if they trusted her enough with it, she decided to play her part and listen.

"You worked at the palace, right?" Sirius asked, voice quiet and cautious. Coming from him, Lily found herself shocked to hear the tone.

"Yes.”

"Well, then did you, by any chance, hear about—the Noble and Most Ancient Family of Black?" He finally got out, holding his breath. From his peripheral vision, Sirius saw Remus and James tense up, eyeing Liz carefully.

Lily blinked, confused. What did that have to do with anything?

"Yes, of course, I've heard of them, but how does that…" Her voice trailed off, the gears in her mind shifting, moving, clicking into place. The thrumming in her heart missed a beat, and then she gasped, hand raising to cover her mouth.

The royal family of the Blacks.

Sirius _Black._

“You’re…you’re royalty.”

It wasn’t a question, because _of course_ , he was! It was a wonder she hadn't put the pieces together before. After all, how many people actually bore the title of 'Black'? How many commoners had their features cut into such perfection that was both beautiful and intimidating at the same time? How many times had Lily encountered that same piercing stare and uncanny cleverness from the other Blacks?

But the idea that this man—a Marauder—could have been a part of that dark family had seemed so ludicrous, was _still_ ludicrous, that the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind, even if some part of her had been able to glean the facts.

She’d barely had a second to reconcile the truth in her head when he spoke up again.

"Yeah, I can understand your surprise," Sirius said. The words in his mouth dripped bitterness, eyes downcast and angry. Her stomach turned painfully, but she was still in too much shock to do anything but stare. "And I live with the burden of my name every _single_ day _,_ Liz. I was eleven when I left the Slytherin kingdom, sick of all their cruelty and abuse. Those people were supposed to be my _family,_ but instead, all I saw in them were monsters. Not that the feeling wasn’t mutual, mind you; I was basically little more than scum to them.”.

Lily winced at his harsh tone, never having seen this side of Sirius before.

"It’d always been difficult, living with them and watching them ally with rulers like Riddle, but I was too weak to do anything." He continued, "However, that night changed everything—it was _horrifying!_ I was hiding, watching as they did it. Riddle was there, of course, and he was the one who ran the sword through him, but my family was involved, too. I couldn't do anything; I was too scared and—"

"Wait!" Lily interrupted, finally finding her voice as dread washed over her. She was positive her heart was pumping in her throat. "You said—Riddle ran his sword through whom?"

"The king," Sirius clarified, "King Charles Evans."

All the air left her body in a rush, like someone had drenched the very life out of her.

Lily stumbled back a step unstably. Hand to her neck, feeling bile rise to the back of her throat, head a jumble of _Oh god! Oh god, no no no._ Someone caught her upper arm in a firm grip, and the touch startled her enough that she looked up; hazel eyes peered down in concern.

"Are you alright?" James asked, frowning.

A choked, strangled sound escaped her mouth and she shook off his grip. Sweat was gathering at the nape of her neck as tears pricked behind her eyes. "I'm fine. What happened after that?"

Sirius took a deep breath.

It was hard to tell what Liz was feeling at the moment. She seemed to have received quite a shock when he’d mentioned the king's death—though why, he did not know, since it was all but common knowledge by now. "I thought I was well-hidden behind one of the carriages, but then my father spotted me. I knew I should've run, but all I could do was stare at the king. There was so much blood, and I didn’t know what to do. Surprisingly, my father had enough humanity left to not turn in his own son to that murderer. He kept his mouth shut until Riddle had left before cornering me."

"And then?"

"And then," he paused, "Then for the first time ever, I spoke my mind. I told them _everything_ — _every_ goddamn thing I had been suppressing inside." A dark smirk crossed Sirius's lips, "It felt bloody amazing. Of course, then I had to pay the price, too. My mother was a _fine_ lady; she had the most creative methods of punishment up her sleeve."

Sirius flexed his arm at the elbow, and Lily saw a ragged scar, dulled over time, running diagonally across his tanned skin that she’d never noticed before. From the looks of it, it’d been a deep burn, and was most likely going to mar his skin forever. She closed her eyes, grasping James's forearm tightly as she tried with all her might to not imagine how Sirius might’ve gotten that burn.

All she could see was a young boy. Scared. Bleeding.

"That night was the end of it. I left the castle when everybody had gone to bed and mother was too tired of torturing me. Even my younger brother, Regulus, refused to come with me—said I shouldn't have done what I did." Sirius frowned, looking down, and it wasn’t hard to make out the pain lacing his voice. But when he looked up again, his eyes were set. "I did get him to promise that he wouldn't tell anyone, though. I guess that was a consolation. Anyway, I broke my arm while trying to jump out my window, but somehow managed to reach Gryffindor. I was so stupid," he shook his head with a wry grin. "I thought I could go around telling people that Riddle killed the king, and they’d believe me."

Sirius sighed as Remus rested a hand on his shoulder, a sad smile curling his lips. "No one did. Or maybe they had, but were too scared to do anything about it. I roamed around for days without food, or fresh clothes, and a broken arm. People would look at me, shake their heads in pity, and move on. Not that I could blame them—everyone was getting poorer by the second."

There was silence then, and for the first time that night, Lily spotted a genuine smile forming on Sirius's face. It was small, but a happy one. Seeing it spread relief through her veins, and the tears she’d held back finally fell. For Sirius. For her friend, her brother, a brave man. For everything he’d endured.

"And then they found me," he said, voice filled with such fondness that something ached in her chest. "James and Remus, prats that they were, refused to leave me alone even when I bit their heads off with all my moodiness. But they believed me, helped me recover, and gave me a new identity as a Marauder despite my past. They accepted me when no one else did."

"Please," James chuckled, his own voice heavy with emotion. Lily hadn’t realized she’d still been grasping onto him until he took a step forward. "We didn't accept you; you practically threw yourself at us," he joked, playfully slugging Sirius on the shoulder.

Remus inconspicuously wiped at his eyes, shaky laughter spilling out.

"Well?" Sirius asked nervously, turning back to her, "Are you going to say something?"

Lily simply shook her head, and in two long strides, walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. She sobbed into his shoulder, shaking silently as Sirius rubbed her back.

"Idiot! I cannot believe you thought that I might not understand. Of course, I do!" She felt Sirius relax against her almost instantly at the words, and he held her tighter against him, cheek pressed onto her head.

It didn’t escape Lily’s mind that everything Sirius had shared with her had only solidified her belief that the Marauders were unlikely to reject her if she told them the truth. She almost did it then, almost opened her mouth to say the words, but the differences between their situations struck her senses unpleasantly.

Where Sirius had run away from Slytherin, gone on to make a difference, Lily had stayed on in the castle and watched as Riddle had wrung the kingdom dry. She’d been a coward, helpless, and had then signed her fate on a parchment that would’ve made things even worse had it not been for the Marauders. And to top it all off, she had lied to these men for days on end as she slept under their roof, ate their food, laughed and cried with them.

They might forgive her, but it would put the plan they’d drawn up for tomorrow at stake. Mary’s kind smile floated in her head, and Lily decided allaying her own guilt could come later.

If they survived tomorrow—if she made it out—she’d do it.

The future was undecided and dangerous, but for now, Lily had the Marauders on her side.*

And that was all that mattered.

**********

Her hands were shaking as she held the knife in her palm, breaths coming out in spurts.

This was it. She was going to do this. She _had_ to do this. For Mary. If her friend was willing to sacrifice her life for Lily, then she could at least sacrifice her freedom in return. If it came down to it, Lily knew she’d do it—she would marry Lucius if it meant Mary could live.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, a painful tug inside her chest sent her reeling, the sensation as sharp as a piercing blade.

However, the reason her fingers slackened and the knife slid out from her palm had nothing to do with Prince Lucius; rather, it had everything to do with the shock, the disbelief at her own treacherous feelings, at the first person that she thought of after considering the word 'marriage'.

It—couldn't be. Not now, not when she’d made up her mind.

The anticipatory clang of the knife hitting the floor never came. Instead, deft, trained fingers caught the handle before the dagger could touch the ground. Lily looked down as she felt the knife being pushed back into her palm once more by long fingers. A tingle ran down her spine at the touch.

"Careful," James warned, one eyebrow cocked.

Liz’s green eyes stared up at him in stunned silence, face looking paler than usual, lips parted. The rest of her was altered—she was donning a black wig, the strands just long enough to cover her red hair. She wore a form-fitting black shirt with brown breeches and boots. The disguise would do.

"Liz, are you okay?" He asked, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

"Yes," she breathed, took a step back. "Yes, I'm perfectly fine."

James noticed that she glanced at him fleetingly and wondered what was going through her head. He was in a disguise as well, but nothing extravagant; his hair was a light brown color instead of black, and it was ten times less messy. His clothes constituted of simple colors as hers did.

"Doesn't seem like it," he argued, frowning as he dropped his arm back to his side. "Why are you lying?"

"I'm not lying," Liz burst out, and then looked surprised at her own volume. She sighed. "I'm just a little—restless, I guess."

James nodded. "Okay."

"Where are Remus and Sirius?"

"At your service," Sirius greeted from behind her.

Lily whipped around to face the two men at his voice, and couldn't help it—she laughed. Sirius was wearing a wig similar to James's—only a shade lighter—and Remus was wearing a black one. However, the aspect of the disguise that _really_ distracted her was their bellies. They were both sporting fake ones. _Large_ fake ones.

"Don't we look dashing?" Sirius asked.

"Dashing pigs," James replied flatly.

"Oh, shut up," Remus grumbled, trying to shift his stomach into a more comfortable position. "You don't get to be all snarky just because you were lucky enough to not be a part of the diversion tactic. Please just make sure that you get MacDonald out of there. Fast. I don't think they'll buy our story for long."

At that reminder, the air grew solemn again.

James nodded. "Let's go."

As they stepped out of Godric's Hollow, Lily bit her lip and allowed herself a last good look at the house. She would miss the place. And the people. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and turned back around.

 _Stop_ , she berated herself. It was no use being sentimental—she knew she had to do this. Resolving herself to her fate, Lily held her head high and briskly walked out of the house, coming to stand beside James.

"Ready?" He asked.

She nodded, unable to maneuver her voice around the painful lump growing in her throat. The pressure of the dagger stuffed inside her boot was strangely comforting in its cold heaviness.

It was now or never.

**********

"Okay, here goes nothing," Sirius whispered, rubbing his hands together as he shifted from one foot to another.

Lily watched, adrenaline pumping through her veins, as he and Remus turned the corner and disappeared towards the castle. Her hands were getting cold with anxiety, tiny pebbles crunching under her boots as she nervously tapped her foot. She slowly poked her head around the stone wall to watch the two Marauders.

"They're talking to the guards," Lily breathed, bracing her hands on the wall to stop them from shaking. "When are we supposed to go…?" Her voice trailed off as she felt fingers wrap around her wrist. They were warm and comforting, the contrast almost laughable against her own.

The touch prompted her to turn around and face James.

Something hitched in her chest when she noticed the decidedly less amount of space that remained between their bodies. James was looking down at her with the oddest of expressions, his brows furrowed and eyes unwavering.

"Relax," he finally said, his breath tickling her face. "Don’t be so nervous, it’ll only make things worse."

"I'm not—"

He threw her a look, squeezing her wrist a bit more firmly. Lily was positive she completely stopped breathing when he raised his other hand to rest it against the wall beside her head. She was trapped—pressed between his body and the wall—yet at the same time, she’d never felt more liberated. Safe.

“Okay, maybe I’m a little nervous.”

James smirked, the soft tilt of his lips dragging her eyes to his mouth. "And that’s okay," he said quietly, fingers moving away from her hand to her cheek, stealing all rational thought from her head. “As long as you don’t let it consume you, that is.”

Something else was consuming her right then, something like fire—burning, all-encompassing, unrestrained.

Lily felt like her entire body exhaled in relief, in trepidation, bliss, agony, when James dropped his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes, heart thudding. Her own fingers had somehow climbed their way up to rest against his chest.

"It's okay because sometimes fighting the truth is pointless," he said, thumb ghosting over her cheekbone. She almost smiled, because he didn’t need to tell her that.

She knew.

She supposed she’d known since the beginning; it _was_ pointless.

She had fallen in love with him.

It was funny really, because he’d been so unflinchingly rude to her in the beginning, yelling at her every chance he got. But she’d never been able to hate him for it. Maybe that was because of the constant guilt that had kept churning in her stomach, or the fact that no matter how much he yelled, James always— _always—_ helped her. She didn't know how, or when, but it was something that had crept up on her, slow and strong.

“Look at me,” he said, and Lily opened her eyes. The softness of his gaze made her want to carry the memory of this moment with her for all time, even when the world around her had turned to dust. “I—I’m scared. I don’t know what’s going to happen in there. And I don’t know if we’ll make it out alive.”

Ice pricked her skin. “Don’t—”

“No, just—let me finish,” James stopped her, looking pained. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, and I don’t want to take the chance. I need you to know…how I—how I’ve been feeling about you.”

“James.”

“And I’m shite at words, but,” he drew in a shaky breath, “you’re amazing and brilliant and _kind_ , and this was never in my plan, but— _God_ , I wish—I wish I’d kissed you that night.”

Lily couldn’t bear it anymore. Hearing the words, watching his eyes, the uncertainty there, the fear he spoke of—all of it spun together into a rope of feeling that jerked her forward, gasping out of her as she pressed her lips to James’s.

Half a second passed, and he breathed into her, against her, moulding himself closer in a manner that reflected her own shuddering relief at finally kissing him. His fingers trailed down, pressing into her waist, rendering any thought impossible. Lily slanted her mouth over his, feeling the warmth of his lips, tasting him, knowing that she’d never be the same again, never forget how he made her feel. She was careful not to pull at his wig, but wished she could run her fingers over his real hair. Instead, her grip on the back of his neck became a little persistent, and she drew him even closer, feeling herself floating away, knowing nothing but James; his smell, his heat, his breath.

When he finally pulled away from the kiss, exhaling roughly against her cheek, Lily’s pulse skittered in controlled euphoria.

It felt beautiful. Almost miraculous. Magical.

“Liz,” James sighed.

And then the magic broke.

What—what was she _doing?_ She couldn't let this happen. It was so, _so_ wrong! She was deceiving him. And _herself_ by thinking that this could actually be possible. She did not deserve any of this happiness. She did not deserve him.

"James," Lily said, hand on his chest now pressing him back. "We…we should get going."

He opened his eyes then, staring at her silently, gaze dark.

Lily didn't know how he would take this—as a rejection? Maybe. Or maybe as a smart choice for their plan. They didn't _,_ after all, have time for this. She didn't know what he was thinking. She wasn't sure she really wanted to know either.

James swallowed, carefully pulling back. "We should,” he agreed, voice hoarse. He peeked around the corner just as Lily had done minutes before. "They've gone inside," he said without looking at her. "Come on."

"Wait," she reached out and caught his arm. James looked down at her expressionlessly, and she fidgeted. “Be careful. Please.”

His eyes flicked over her face, thumb brushing over knuckles. “You too.”

Lily nodded. She knew there wasn't much danger to her life inside the palace—if the guards came to kill her, she could always save herself with her identity. The same, however, could not be said for her friends. For James. Riddle would kill them in an instant.

The thought made her feel sick, agonized. She wanted to scream, cry, plead— _tell_ him the truth, warn him. But she stayed quiet.

And so, with stolen glances and unsaid whispers, the pair of them stealthily made their way towards the palace entrance, burying their secrets and confessions inside, leaving their lives up to fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to @Lilmint for getting half her 'lost Prince' theory right x
> 
> FYI, guys, this kiss did not exist in the original version, so you're welcome ;)
> 
> Also, I probably won't be able to update on Sunday this week coz I'm flying to another state to attend a wedding. Have a great weekend!


	15. Inferno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry for the late update this week. Health has not been too great, in many senses. Writing's given me some joy though. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Lots of love.

**Deception and Disguise**

**Chapter 15 – Inferno**

* * *

"Your Majesty?"

"What is it, Goyle?" The king's eyes snapped up in annoyance. "I did not call for you. _Leave._ " His thumb craftily ran over the hilt of his sword, tracing the miniature snake carved into the gold.

A week. It’d been almost a week since that filth of a girl had managed to escape from right underneath his nose, and Riddle did not have the patience to talk to idiotic guards who carried piles of dung for heads.

"But, Your Majesty," Goyle stuttered, fearfully eyeing the king's white knuckles. "There's someone here to meet you."

"Well, then, spit it out, Goyle, who is it?"

"It's that Pettigrew man with the beverages," he quickly answered, keeping his eyes trained to the ground. "We’ve run out of supplies."

"Send him away!" Riddle snarled immediately, voice as cold as ice. "I do not need anything! And what happened to finding that wretched princess? Have you forgotten what I can do?" He stood up, his feet kicking away the ottoman on which they rested. He advanced towards the fearful guard, drawing his sword, but letting it hang by his side. "Do you need me to remind you?"

Goyle swallowed, frantically shaking his head. " _No_ , no, of course not, Your Majesty," he bowed down. "We are trying our best to track down the princess. A-and I will soon find her. But Pettigrew…"

"I thought I already said—"

"The ball!" Goyle blurted, "The ball tomorrow! We need beverages for that."

"What ball?" Riddle demanded, staring down at the man with irritation. "I do not recall any ball."

"I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but you scheduled a ball during the last event. It was going to mark the announcement of the princess's marriage with Prince Lucius, and the entire royalty is invited."

Eery silence fell for a few moments, before, with a vicious cry, Riddle knocked over the array of fancy, unlit candelabras that had been resting beside them on a table. Goyle visibly flinched, sweat forming on his brow as he stood there, trembling. There was nothing more he would’ve liked than to escape from the room right then. However, to his immense surprise—and relief—when Riddle turned around to face him again, his black eyes held nothing more than their usual malevolence.

"Y-you could cancel the ball—" Goyle started to say, but the words dried up in his throat when the king whipped his head around to give him a cold look.

"Quiet! I do not need your input!" He hissed. "Besides, only scums like those Hufflepuffs cancel events! I cannot, under any circumstances, fall to their level."

"Yes, of course, Your Majesty."

The king paced around, black robes billowing. "Seems like it's time that those airheaded Malfoys finally found out, isn't it, Goyle?" Riddle asked conversationally, his anger seemingly suppressed. The guard simply nodded, the king's calmness—for some reason or another—scaring him even more. "You can leave now. And send in Pettigrew; I wish to give our guest a warm welcome."

Goyle didn't need to be told twice. He was out of the room in a flash.

**********

Peter Pettigrew stood, twiddling his thumbs nervously as his watery-blue eyes darted around. He sighed and looked up at the chandelier that hung from the high ceiling, waiting—as he had been told to do so—for the guards to return. It was a beautiful palace, he mused as he stood in the foyer. He wondered what it would be like to live surrounded by such grandness, to be a royalty—

"Pettigrew!" A gruff voice jolted him out of his thoughts. Peter jumped, turning around to face one of the guards—Goyle, was his name?

"You can go inside. The king wishes to speak with you," he said.

Peter noticed, with a feeling of dread, that the large man had sweat forming on his brow even as he talked, face deathly white.

It was no mystery as to why that was.

Fear clogging up his throat, Peter nodded jerkily and made his way inside. He wiped his sweaty palms on his breeches to no avail, stepping into the colossal room with trembling hands. He did not have much time to appreciate the brilliant artistry of the walls or the ceilings, because his eyes had gravitated towards the regal figure sitting on the throne.

The king's mouth lifted into a sneer at the sight of the podgy man. "Come here, Pettigrew," he ordered, waving the man towards him.

Peter stumbled forward in his haste, bowing down so low when he reached the king that if it weren't for his impeding stomach, his nose would have probably touched the immaculate floors. "Long live the king!" He squeaked, slowly rising up again.

Riddle gave him an appraising stare, his thin lips puckering in disgust. The man standing in front of him had a worn-out sack slung over his shoulder, from where the sounds of clinging bottles emerged every time he moved. It gave him immense satisfaction to notice the look of absolute fear on Peter Pettigrew's face. His clammy hands shook as he shifted from one foot to another, waiting for Riddle to say something. The king gave a contemptuous smile in return.

Clearly, his guards were blind; there _was_ someone in Gryffindor who valued life more than loyalty.

"I hear you have something for me, Pettigrew." The cold voice made the hairs on the back of Peter's neck stand on end. He nodded. "Go on, then. I hope you will not…disappoint me."

As casual as the words had been, Peter recognized the pointed tone to the voice, and he gulped. It required no genius to figure out what exactly the man had in store for him if he were to be, indeed, _disappointed._

So, Peter began immediately, pulling bottle after bottle out of his rucksack, and flaunting them as if his life depended on it—which in all reality, it did. They were the most exquisite brands of liquor, the best he had. But even as he talked—the words flowing out of his mouth in a terrified, alarming rate—Peter was not foolish enough to believe that the king was actually listening to him.

Riddle was staring down at him with something akin to amusement. Malicious amusement. He did not care about the wines or the whiskies. Peter was providing entertainment for him. He was just letting the power wash over him, reveling in the man's fear of death.

Fear of him.

If it weren't for Peter's need for money, he would’ve never come here. He knew he could've gone to the Marauders, but he hated it—hated how worthless and pitiful it made him feel. No matter what they said, he _knew_ —and they did as well—that Peter was not like them.

But that did not mean that he resented them for it.

No, he envied them.

Envied how brave they were, how strong and courageous they seemed _all the time._ There was also admiration—they were fearless, people who Peter aspired to become like. They never made him feel inferior. However, the thing he cherished most was the feeling that came from the one activity that the Marauders deigned him capable of performing: spying.

He loved spying for them; it made him feel useful and valuable. Like he was their secret weapon. He was not just Peter Pettigrew, the beverage dealer. He was Peter Pettigrew, the almost fourth Marauder.

_Almost._

But it had been over a week now _,_ and Peter had started to fear that he was losing that title. They hadn't asked for his help in a long time. And the last time they’d visited, it’d been with _her_ in tow _._ He was afraid that they had found a…replacement for him. They wouldn't need him anymore. _The princess_ could become the fourth Marauder. As for him, well…he would always remain the beverage dealer.

So, with an inner battle to prove himself _worthy_ —with or without the Marauders—Peter had set off to the palace on his own. He could do it. He could stand on his own. He didn't need to be someone's shadow—a shadow that could be cast away whenever that 'someone' felt like it.

He was a person of his own. Maybe not as fearless or as chivalrous as the Marauders, but he still had _pride._ He had to prove himself.

That feeling had lasted all of five minutes after he’d entered the castle. His demeanor had shrunk and his face had blanched as soon as the guards had left to talk to the king.

Peter did not know why it was necessary to inform Riddle of his arrival; it hadn't been necessary before. However, in hindsight, he shouldn't have been surprised. The palace seemed eerier, gloomier than it ever had before. Every single soul was breathing in fear. And it wasn't as if Peter didn't know the reason behind that. So, it really shouldn't have shocked him at all when instead of leading him to the wine cellar, as usual, Goyle had run off to ask the king for permission.

But it _had_ shocked him. Terrified him. He had never known King Tom Riddle to be reluctant in matters of spending gold when it came to his reputation or luxuries.

"Enough!" The king's bored voice jolted Peter out of his thoughts. The man almost jumped at the sound, foolishly worrying—for some reason or another—that the king had been able to read his thoughts. Peter had barely even been aware that all this while, he’d been jabbering away without realizing what he was saying. He could only hope that it wasn't too disastrous, and that Riddle had been impressed enough to let him live.

He waited with bated breath as the king stood up, walking away from the throne to stand a few feet away, his back facing Peter. He didn't even spare a glance at the blond man.

"Pettigrew, I have decided—" Riddle stopped speaking abruptly, his words cut off as a loud exclamation of ' _You_!' followed by a clanging noise disrupted him.

“Goyle!” He called, eyes narrowing when there was no response. “What is going on?”

The growing impatience in the tone only served to make Peter more nervous when no one replied yet again. Knuckles turning impossibly white as he drew the gold-hilted sword from its sheath, Riddle made to walk out of the room. At the last moment, however, his gaze swiveled back to the beverage dealer who stood frozen near the throne.

"Do not even _think_ about leaving this room, Pettigrew. I assume you like your head where it is."

And then he was out of the room with a swish of his cape before Peter could so much as open his mouth.

**********

_A Few Minutes Ago_

A small, lithe figure crept along the shadows of the palace entrance. It ducked around corners, keeping away from view, followed only by another, larger shadow, just as quiet, just as stealthy.

The boisterous, confident voices of their counterparts—Sirius and Remus—interacting with the guards dulled in the background as the pair slipped inside the castle, seemingly unnoticed by anyone.

Lily's heart was pounding as she maneuvered through the familiar path, her feet careful and silent on the floor as she tugged James along behind her. She had to hand it to the Marauder; if his warm hand hadn't been encased in her own, Lily wouldn't have even been aware of his presence. His breathing was soft, controlled, and barely audible. She was eternally grateful for the calming effect that his years of experience provided her.

If she’d been alone, she would’ve never made it past the entrance.

Lily took a deep breath and turned around the corner, more than aware of the fact that the throne room—where the king spent the majority of his time—was only a few chambers away. However, she had barely taken a step in that direction before, with a soft gasp, she retraced her steps, hand pushing James behind as she slammed her back against the wall, breathing harshly.

'What?' James mouthed, confused, after she had managed to reopen her eyes. Before she could answer him, however, someone else did.

"Who's there?" Goyle's gruff voice called out, heavy footsteps echoing on the floor.

Lily's fingers tightened around James's in an almost painful grip. She bit her lip, trying to staunch the fear as the gargantuan shadow of the guard came into view, only seconds before the man also followed.

The scream of panic was barely contained in her throat as she watched, with a mixture of awe and anxiety, James smoothly pull his hand out from her death grip to pin the beefy guard against the wall using his arm. He tightly clamped the free hand over Goyle’s mouth to keep him from shouting.

Lily’s eyes grew impossibly wide in apprehension as James raised his dagger to the man's triple-chinned neck.

"Now, you listen here, pudding head," he started, panting harshly from the effort of keeping the heavy man immobile. "You make _one_ sound—even _one_ —and you'll never make a sound ever again. Got it?"

Goyle whimpered in agreement even as he continued to struggle against the Marauder's hold. Lily kept her head slightly ducked down during the interaction, hoping against hope that the wig would be enough to keep her identity hidden.

"Good." James nodded. "Now tell us where Riddle has kept Mary MacDonald imprisoned. And remember, if you dare call for help…" He trailed off, his meaning clear.

At the guard's hesitant compliance, James slowly dropped his hand from the man's mouth, watching impatiently as he wheezed—whether from lack of breath or anxiousness, he couldn't tell. "C'mon, now, we don't have much time!" he hissed urgently, his dagger still poised threateningly against the larger man's neck.

"I'm answering, I'm answering!" Goyle breathed quickly, beady eyes fearful as he gazed down at the glinting blade. "She's locked up in the west dungeon. Her cell is situated all the way at the end of the hall."

"Locked up for execution," James muttered to himself. He looked up at Goyle again, strategically increasing the pressure of his dagger slightly. Goyle squeaked—Lily would’ve laughed if the situation was not completely terrifying—and looked down at James's narrowed gaze. "The keys," The Marauder demanded, "where are the keys to her cell?"

He did not immediately answer, a bead of sweat trickling down his brow.

" _Tell_ me, or…"

"I-I have them!" He blurted, stubby fingers digging into pockets noisily, rummaging for a few seconds before they pulled out a large rusted ring, which contained a dozen or so keys. His fingers fumbled as he handed them over.

Lily quickly reached out, and with unnaturally steady fingers, stuffed them into her breeches.

However, it took her a few seconds to realize that the guard had let out a sudden gasp.

Ice clawing at her insides, she slowly raised her head.

In her desperation to know the whereabouts of her friend, Lily had been boldly flaunting her face for far too long. He was bound to recognize her at some point. _Stupid stupid stupid._ She watched with trepidation as the man opened his mouth, and her feet were in action before she had even given her brain the signal to do so.

" _You!_ " Goyle exclaimed loudly, giving only enough time for Lily to grasp the bronze vase that had been resting on a nearby table.

James, thinking that the man was simply trying to raise an alarm, swore under his breath; he knew that for all his taunts, he could never kill the guard unless he absolutely _had_ to. Sensing Liz’s motive, he quickly ducked down, watching as she struck the burly man on the head with the vessel, instantly knocking him out.

Lily looked down with a gaping mouth as Goyle dropped to the floor with a heavy thud, the vase slipping out of her hand to clatter noisily against the floor.

"Is he—he…?"

"No, no," James quickly assured her. "He's just unconscious. We have to get out of—"

"Goyle!”

Lily's blood ran cold at the voice—a voice she’d _never_ forget, for it continued to haunt her days and nights without fail, a constant reminder of the fate she couldn’t escape, the monster she couldn’t shake off.

“What is going on?” He yelled again.

She couldn't move. She could _not move_.

Hatred, as she'd never known, was boiling inside Lily; he was right there, the man who’d ruined her life. He was the one who had killed her father, the one who was about to hang her friend, and the one who cared about no one but himself and his unending greed for power and wealth.

Her hands had balled into fists, fingernails digging into soft flesh to leave crescent moons of rage. A forceful tug on her arm jolted Lily out of her trance and she stumbled clumsily, looking up to meet panicked hazel eyes.

"Come _on_ , Liz, what're you _doing_?" James hissed, his feet already in action, dragging her behind him. "Run!" he implored again, giving another sharp pull on her hand.

Finally remembering that risking her life meant risking James's—as well as Sirius's and Remus's—Lily, with a sudden burst of energy, took the lead and made her way down the long corridor, towards where she knew the dungeons were.

They’d just turned around the corner, when, merely a few seconds later, the unmistakable sound of the swish of a cloak and angry footsteps resounded from where they’d been.

**********

Riddle could feel the temper simmering under his skin to a boiling point.

He stared down at the large, unconscious figure on the floor with a mixture of shock and disgust. "Goyle!" he hissed, prodding the man with his foot, only to have the body loll around helplessly.

A repulsed scoff escaped him, cold eyes roving the scene until they landed on a fallen vase. Riddle stared at it for a few seconds before, with a furious cry, he kicked the alloy, watching as it skidded across the floor and into the wall.

The clanging noise reverberated throughout the entire corridor.

"Avery! Mulciber!" The king yelled, striding angrily towards the empty foyer, snapping his head from side to side in search of his guards. "You mongrels! Where is everyone?!"

The raging rant was halted, however, when the sound of voices from the entrance drifted to the king's ears. His sword was drawn and he was marching outside barely a second later.

As he reached the large double doors of the palace, Riddle could make out the cluster of guards that stood, chatting and laughing with people he couldn't see. _Commoners_ , he noted with distaste. If it weren't for the urgent circumstances, he would've made sure that every single one of those useless mutts he had for guards got what they deserved. As it was, the circumstances _were_ dire, and he had other matters to take care of.

Fortunately, the king did not have to waste any more energy as one of the men—Anthony Avery—spotted him standing just inside the doors, sword in hand. It seemed as though all the color had drained from Avery's face in a split second.

"Your Majesty!" He cried, quickly bowing down. His companions, hearing the greeting, pivoted on their heels to come face to face with the king as well. As a unit, all of them bowed down again, fear and shock evident on their faces. "You could've just called for us, Your Majesty. There was no need for you to—"

"Quiet, Avery!" Riddle snarled. For a second, his black eyes flashed to the duo of fat men—the commoners—who looked upon the scene with their mouths agape—but he controlled the urge of slitting their throats, and ushered the guards inside the castle. "Mulciber! Make sure all the exits are closed and guarded. Avery, I do not care how you do it, but revive Goyle. _Now_!"

As the palace doors were finally closed in a flurry of movements, the two men in disguise caught the king's final words. "There are intruders in the palace. And I have a good idea as to where they might be…"

"Shit," Sirius muttered, running a hand through his wig as he turned to look at Remus.

"Shit, indeed."

**********

"Are you sure this is the right way, Liz?" James asked, following the woman before him through corridors and halls and bloody _labyrinths_.

"Positive," she panted.

"Are you _sure_ we're not lost?"

" _Yes_ , James, I'm _sure_!"

"Okay, okay!" he huffed, "keep your voice down, or we'll get caught. I'm sure Riddle has alerted the guards already."

"Right. Sorry."

The pair continued on in silence for a few moments after that, Lily's breathing ragged and harsh as she ran, while James's remained healthily exerted. After what seemed like ages, they finally turned into an endless, dark hall that housed damp, dirty cells on both sides. Strangely enough—for it was King Tom Riddle's reign—all the cells leading to the last one were devoid of even a single prisoner.

James and Lily would've stopped to ponder the peculiarity of the situation, and how things looked a bit too convenient, if it weren't for their urgent need to just _get out of there._

Lily's heart pounded as she neared her destination, her euphoria at the thought of seeing her friend mixing with the dormant fear of what would happen in the aftermath. Unknowingly, her feet slowed down, and it wasn't until she saw hazel eyes looking down at her that she realized that she had halted completely.

"What's wrong?" James asked, his words quick but confused. "We're almost here. Let's go."

Lily blinked up at him. Right then, in the middle of all that darkness and doom, it struck her, strong and sudden, just how handsome he was. And then, almost immediately after that inopportune observation—

 _He’s going to hate me_.

"I think you should wait here," she finally said, her voice coming out strangely strangled. James frowned. "Keep an eye out. I'll go and get Mary."

"But—"

"We do not have much time, James." She was already moving around him to walk ahead. " _Please_."

"Okay," he sighed. "Okay, be quick."

"I will."

James watched her walk away for a few seconds before, with a deep breath, he turned around and retraced his steps, waiting near one of the damp cells they’d just passed, his chest feeling heavy. He really hoped Liz would hurry up because something just _didn't feel right._

**********

"Mary?" Lily whispered urgently.

The head of brown, unkempt curls that had been resting atop folded arms lifted up slowly. Dry, tear-stained cheeks, bloodshot eyes, and a dirt-smudged face stared back at the princess. She watched as Mary confusedly blinked a few times, almost numbly, before her brown eyes widened.

First in recognition, and then in fear.

Mary immediately burst into tears, curling up into a ball.

"Mary!" Lily choked out, feeling as if someone had slapped her. Was she…was she actually _scared_ of her? "Mary, _please_ , what's wrong? It's me; Lily." Her eyes instinctively darted back for a second to make sure James couldn't hear them. She looked back at her friend. "I'm here to save you. Come on."

But Mary only shook her head vigorously.

"Mary, please, we don't have much time! The guards will be here any second. We'll all be killed," Lily pleaded desperately, pulling out the bunch of keys from her breeches and immediately getting to work.

This, however, only seemed to make the girl cry harder. Lily paused for a moment, her heart clenching as she stared at Mary, wanting nothing more than to reach out and wrap her arms around her.

"You shouldn't have come here, L-Lily," Mary finally blubbered, though the words were such a far cry from what the princess had expected, it was almost comical. "It's a t-trap. You're going to get ca-captured. The king will make you sign the contract again."

"I don't care," Lily said firmly, not a hint of indecision in her voice. She went back to work; trying out the fourth key, only to have it uselessly move around once more. "I just need to get you out of here. Uncle won't kill me; I _know_ he won't. But we both know that it's not the same for you, and I'm not going to let you sacrifice yourself for my sake."

"But Lily—"

"Liz."

"I…what?" she hiccupped, confusion seeping into her tone. "Who's Liz?"

Lily bit her lip instead of answering, her fingers fumbling for the seventh key. At length, she sighed. "I’m Liz." Her voice had lowered to something barely above a whisper—just to be safe. "It's the name I've taken outside the palace. It comes from my mother's name, Eliza."

Mary nodded, her stream of tears considerably slowed down now. Her hands remained clasped—shaking—in front of her when, _finally_ , on the eighth try, there was a telltale _click_. With an anticipatory breath, Lily shoved the rusted bars, which easily swung open with a creak.

Barely a second later, the two women found themselves clutching each other tightly, their tears and smiles mixing together with fear and gratitude.

"Come on. Let's get out of here," Lily pulled back, quickly wiping at her eyes. "We only managed to knock out Goyle. I'm sure he's raised an alarm by now."

"We?" Mary inquired, brushing away her own tears. "What do you mean 'we'? Who else is here?"

A pause. And then, "James Potter."

"Who?"

"James Potter."

"No, I heard you. Who is James Potter?"

"Well, it's not just him. The others are here as well, but it's just me and James in the palace." Lily divulged. At Mary's continued blank stare, she finally elaborated. "The Marauders, Mary. I'm here with the Marauders. I've been staying with them for the past week, and they're all really great people—"

"Oh, god."

"I know, I know," Lily clutched Mary's shoulders, desperately trying to get her friend to understand. "I know it sounds bad, and it's dangerous, but don't worry, I'll do anything to get you all out of here."

"That's what I'm worried about!" Her brown eyes had started gleaming with unshed tears again.

" _Please_ , Mary," Lily all but begged. "Please, we _don't_ have time for this. We have to go! Can you please just promise me one thing?"

Mary covered her face with both hands as she cried, but nodded nonetheless.

"I need you to call me Liz when we get out of here, okay? You _have_ to remember," Lily said, the sternness in her voice successfully masking her own tears. "And if we—if _I_ don't make it out of here—no, _listen_ to me—if I _don't_ , can you just tell James, and the other Marauders—Remus and Sirius—that…that I'm sorry? And that I…I love them. All of them. Please, Mary? Promise me."

She promised.

**********

"James!"

The sound of her voice sent a surge of relief coursing through him, and James turned around, allowing himself a second's peace as he caught sight of her green eyes. A short, timid brunette with red-rimmed eyes walked behind her, looking the worse for wear. When Mary MacDonald's brown eyes caught his, she gave him an exhausted, but grateful smile.

James politely returned it.

"Sorry it took us so long," Liz said, not meeting his eyes. "The keys…there were too many."

"That's okay," James replied, though he _had_ been wondering what the delay was about. "It doesn't matter. I'm just surprised that no one has tried to arrest us yet.”

"Right. Let's get out of here," Liz agreed.

However, they’d just managed to leave the dungeons and round the corner when they realized that they had company.

And not a very welcome one.

"Going somewhere?" Avery sneered, lip curling unpleasantly as he blocked their path. The presence of the two sadistic-looking men who stood behind him, clearly meant to eradicate any chance of escape, formed the beginnings of panic in Lily’s heart.

**********

_Several Minutes Ago_

"Have all the exits been guarded?" The cold voice demanded of his guards.

"Yes, Your Majesty," replied Mulciber.

"What happened to Goyle?"

"He's coming to," answered Avery. He, along with three other guards, was kneeling beside the slightly stirring form of Goyle. His eyes opened, a loud groan slipping out, which was immediately followed by a wince as he clutched his head in pain.

"Up, Goyle!" Riddle ordered.

The surrounding guards immediately scampered away as Goyle clumsily stumbled to his feet, swaying slightly on the spot as he tried to regain his senses. However, he had barely experienced five seconds of rest before he found himself staring at black, pit-less eyes. They reminded him of an abyss.

"Your Majesty," he dutifully bowed down.

"What happened?"

"They knocked me out," Goyle answered, shaking from head to toe. "They wanted to know where Mary Macdonald—that maid—was being kept." At this point, the man dropped to his knees, clasping his hands in front of him as he begged. "He threatened to k-kill me! I had no choice, Your Majesty! Please have mercy! I—"

"Who is this _'he'_ you speak of?" The king's voice was barely a decimal louder, but it effortlessly carried over the guard's wails. "Who were these people?"

Riddle had been so _sure_ …that stupid wretch _had_ to come.

"I don't know the man. There was one—he was tall, and brown hair…old clothes." Here, the man paused, steeling himself for divulging the next part. "She was also there—the princess. I didn't recognize her at first; she was wearing a wig, but I can swear it was her. She was the one who knocked me out." He immediately dissolved into another loud bout of sobs.

There was silence for a few moments after this information was revealed. The king's face was blank and unresponsive. After what seemed like an eternity, in a calm, unbothered voice, he asked, "And what exactly did you do, Goyle?"

"I…" The guard lifted his eyes in surprise, having expected the king to have killed him by then. There was a definite lift in his spirits when he noticed Riddle's controlled tone. "I didn't have a choice, Your Majesty," he repeated, "I told them that she was locked up in the dungeons. But then he asked for the keys."

"Which you gave them?"

"Yes," he cowered in fear again. "They took it, and when I recognized the princess, she hit me with the vase."

King Tom Riddle had turned his back on the guard before the man was even done speaking, seemingly uninterested in whatever more he had to say—or grovel. He addressed the light-haired guard then. "Avery, make sure our guests get a warm welcome, would you? Take two others with you to the passageway leading to the dungeons."

"We could just arrest them in the dungeons, Your Majesty."

"You will do as I say," The king seethed. "Let them revel in their victory for a few seconds—once their guard is down, I hope you can handle the rest. _Right_ , Avery?" The guard immediately nodded his head. "Good. And make sure all of them are brought back to me in one piece. No one dies—except maybe the servant girl. I do not care what you do with her."

The surrounding men snickered appreciatively.

"Greyback, McNair, let's go," Avery said, and the three men quickly left the room, towards the dungeons.

"Now," Riddle speculated, idly running his forefinger on the blade of his sword as he turned around to look at the still kneeling guard. "You have been of great use to me, Goyle." The king said, and Goyle felt himself sag with relief. "However," Riddle walked towards the man with slow, deliberate steps, looking mockingly apologetic. "However, you have…made some mistakes. _Grave_ mistakes. And I am afraid, that those mistakes cannot be overlooked. They cannot be forgiven."

Goyle's beady eyes widened at the words. "No!" He immediately cried, "No, Your Majesty! Please have mercy!"

"You should be _proud_ ," The king spoke over him, looking darkly amused, "your death will help us all—it will serve as an example, Goyle. No one will dare to make the same mistakes again. They will understand that King Tom Riddle does not offer second chances."

"No, _please_ —"

But it was in vain.

The words were cut off. The throat was slit. The blade dripped with blood.

The empty eyes stared into nothing with a silent scream of pain.

And at the end of the room, a head of blond hair peeked around the corner, blue eyes enlarging at the sight before him. With a frightened, indecipherable gasp, Peter Pettigrew scampered back into the throne room, swallowing down the bile that had risen up in his throat.

_King Tom Riddle did not offer second chances._


	16. Conflagration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys will like this one ;)

**Deception and Disguise**

**Chapter 16 - Conflagration**

* * *

As she stood staring at the three guards blocking their way, Lily's face lost all its color, green eyes widening from under the dark fringe of her wig.

Mary, in an effort to allay her own fears, squeezed the princess's hand tightly. Unrestrained dread had spread through her limbs—the fear for her friend, for her family, and for herself burying her under its weight. Her eyes glanced towards the Marauder beside her, who seemed—apart from his tense back muscles—rather collected in the situation.

"Hey, you," MacNair growled at James, his lips pulling back to reveal yellowing teeth as he grinned maliciously. "What's your name?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"Think you're very smart, do you?" Greyback asked, narrowing his eyes as he held back MacNair from lunging at the man.

"Not really," James shot back. "I know I am."

"Enough!" Avery said loudly, sensing where the situation was headed. "Bastard’s just trying to rile you up. No need to talk anymore. We have our orders, and the king wants them alive. You three—no funny business." He gestured for the two other guards to bring their captives.

Struggling was pointless; neither Lily, nor Mary, was physically strong enough to get rid of the steely grip that the guards had on them. Surprisingly, James did not see the point in trying to resist either, maintaining his cool demeanor even as Avery shoved him along.

Lily kept her eyes down, praying with all her heart for some miracle—for their safety. Would Riddle reveal her identity? Surely, he would. Would she at least get to apologize? Would she even get to _see_ him again? Would he be alive for her to be able to?

As if unable to handle the dread of the thought, her eyes lifted—for a second, or maybe just a millisecond—to catch James staring back at her. He blinked.

And then the commotion started.

Whirling on her feet, Lily took hold of Greyback's hand, biting down on it so hard that the man lost his grip on the sword. A shout of agony escaped his lips and he cursed, shoving away the girl to clutch at his hand in pain. As MacNair took a step forward to help his comrade, Mary, seizing the opportunity, tripped him over her foot, sending the guard sprawling across the marble floor.

A second after he saw the flash of emerald meet his eyes, James's fingers were wrapped around the cool handle of his dagger. He was quick on his feet, parrying each of Avery's hits and blows with one of his own. From his peripheral vision, he saw Liz bite Greyback, heard the shout that pierced the air, and moved aside just in time as MacNair tripped and fell to the floor.

He was awarded a moment's distraction from his opponent when Avery's eyes flickered to the groaning man on the ground as well.

James kicked the sword out of Avery's hand, and using the guard's surprise as leverage, struck a blow to his shin. He waited for the thud signaling Avery's fall before he was turning on his feet, running straight towards Greyback.

He didn't really have to, however, because—James stopped short—Liz had the blade pointed at the guard already, her hand steady in its purpose.

"Let us go," she said. Ordered. The weapon did not look good in her hand, did not suit her. But it gave her a fire, a confidence that James admired. There were tears on her clothes from the struggle, a bleeding lip (courtesy of Greyback) but she still stood strong and firm. "I don't want to hurt anyone."

"It's the king's orders. I'm afraid I do not have a choice, Your H—"

It seemed like a surreal, almost dreamlike—or a nightmarish—moment when the blade ripped through the air. Mary screamed. Or maybe someone else did.

With an anguished shout that made the hairs on James's skin crawl, Greyback stumbled to the floor, his hand grabbing his thigh, where a deep red gash ran diagonally. He scrambled back desperately as blood continued to seep out, howling in pain.

Lily stood frozen on the spot, letting the blood-stained sword clatter noisily to the floor in shock. She stared at the man at her feet, feeling her fingers shake even as her body grew numb. She’d just attacked someone, slashed him with a sword when he hadn’t been an imminent threat to her life.

She could’ve killed him.

 _But I didn't have a choice_ , Lily argued with herself, holding back tears that were burning behind her pupils.

She’d known what Greyback had been about to say—what that _one_ , single word, that one address could've revealed. It was a decision made in a split second, and Lily was not sure whether she would've decided differently had she been given even an hour to think about it, and _God_ , that scared her more than anything because she wasn’t a murderer, she _wasn't_.

"Lily," Mary's soft voice whispered into her ear, "Lily, come on, we have to go."

She turned her head to look at her friend, who herself had tears in her eyes. But there was also a desperate sort of look on her face; a look that brought Lily back to her senses. Mary was right—they didn't have time. They had to go. She wiped the blood off her lower lip with the back of her hand, and gave a jerky nod.

"Let's go," James said, slipping his hand into hers. Lily looked up at him, and before she knew it, they were tearing through the corridors again, breathing hard.

She felt like she had a metal ball lodged inside her throat, and it hurt like hell. She could hear Avery and MacNair chasing after them, knew she had to run faster, but she couldn't push beyond the thought that _she had just attacked a man_.

"Stop it, Liz!" James's harsh voice penetrated her haze. He wasn't looking at her, instead turning his head around to look at the guards. They were gaining on them. "You had no choice; he wouldn't have let us pass. Besides, you only attacked his leg—good thinking."

He flashed her a smile—which Lily couldn’t return—before suddenly shoving her into Mary, who quickly steadied her.

"What—" she began, fear clawing at her heart as she watched James turn around to face the two men, dagger in hand.

"Go, I'll catch up. _Please_."

"James, _no_ —"

"Mary, take her. _Now_ ," he shouted, moments before he was engaged in a fight with Avery and MacNair. Lily felt herself being dragged away, not being able to put up much of a fight as Mary shoved and pushed her out of view with a surprising amount of strength.

"Lily, listen to me—no, _stop_ fighting—he knows what he's doing,” Mary cried as they blindly turned a corner, “he'll be safe; he has the experience, but you don't. Just…come with me—"

"I am _not_ leaving without him."

"No, you are not." A cold voice cut through the air, making shivers run down Lily's spine. She closed her eyes, not willing to face the nightmare that haunted her day and night. But it was useless—she knew it was. Tom Riddle was a conflagration that was meant to burn and torture people, and there was no escaping it, no escaping him. "You are not leaving, dear niece," he sneered. "Not until you are married, at least. Not until I have settled all my accounts."

"You are a _foul_ man, you bastard!" she swore, fighting off Mary's grip and stalking towards him in a sudden rage of anger that she hadn’t anticipated. It only struck her distantly that they were gathered in the hall right outside the throne room, almost back to where they'd started from.

The king's eyes momentarily widened in surprise, before disgust curled his lips.

"A few days of air has really turned you into a filthy rat," he spat, "Such a mouth you've got on you. Charles would be _so_ proud—"

"Enough!" Lily yelled. "Do not utter another word about my father. I've had _enough_!"

"No one dares to talk to me like that!" Riddle roared, pulling his sword out of its sheath.

"No—" Mary rushed forward, brown eyes wide. The king, in his anger, simply backhanded the girl, hitting her hard enough to send her crashing into a pillar. The collision knocked her out and she slid to the ground, unconscious.

"Mary!" Lily shouted, taking a step forward to help her friend.

Her efforts went in vain, however, when she was yanked back by Riddle, who had brutally fisted his hand into her wig and tossed it away, prompting Lily to cry out in pain. It was only a split second later that her hand was being pulled back into a painful angle, and she could feel the cool metal of the blade against her cheek.

"Let me go!" She wriggled desperately in his grasp.

"What is the matter, _Princess_?" The horrid, putrid breath made her nauseous. "Are you not _proud_ of your identity? Why the sudden need for disguise?"

Lily felt the blade dig a little deeper into her cheek, felt it tear open the skin there, and then a shallow stream of blood trickled down to her mouth. She spat in disgust.

"Now, now, are those the proper etiquettes?" Riddle taunted mockingly, "I am sure your _lovely_ mother would disapprove—"

Lily felt the spark of her previous anger returning in full force, and using that to her benefit, she shoved the man's hand away from her face, whirling out of his grip. The king, in his scramble to get hold of the girl, miscalculated, and the hand that held the sword cut through the air, its target undecided.

A sharp gasp echoed in the room, and the blade returned, maculated in blood.

Lily clutched the left side of her abdomen, feeling the warmth on her fingers as a red hue rapidly stained her shirt. She staggered, stumbled, but did not fall to the ground. When she looked up, nothing could've surprised her more than what she saw: King Tom Riddle looked scared, _afraid_ , shocked as he stared back at her.

However, his features relaxed a little when he realized that she was still standing—still breathing. "You silly wretch!" he said scornfully, "look what you made me do!"

"You have done much, _much_ worse," Lily shot back. Her voice was already breathier than it had been a moment ago. The pain was unbearable. "This should be…should be nothing to you. I—I'm surprised you haven't killed me yet." She pressed both hands to her side, trying to suppress the blood flow.

"Do not be under the delusion that I care for you."

"Ha!" she couldn't help but scoff. " _Trust_ me, I never was. Merely curious." Lily's chest heaved with the effort of standing still, her eyes growing heavier.

"You are about to die," Riddle informed, and the fear was back in his eyes.

"Yes."

"You cannot die. Not yet," he said, taking a few steps forward.

"Get away from her!" A voice shouted, making the king whip his head around. And as he did so, the hilt of a sword painfully met his skull, immediately rendering him unconscious. James threw the sword to the ground, panting, as he stared down at the unmoving king.

His clothes were all but in shreds, bruises covering his hands, and he’d even managed to acquire a small scar above his right eyebrow.

But he was safe, _alive_ —and that was all that mattered.

"James," Lily choked out, managing a watery-smile even as her insides screamed in agony.

His head immediately snapped up, and the hazel eyes smiled, crinkling at the corners. His grin softened a little, he stepped forward, and Lily realized that she was crying when the cut on her cheek stung from the saltiness of her tears. It was only a second—or maybe a year—later that she found herself engulfed in his arms. It felt warm. Safe. It felt like…home.

She closed her eyes and cried into his shoulder, body shaking with silent sobs. He whispered soothing words into her ear while she held onto them like a lifeline. And then suddenly, his palm pressed into her side.

Lily couldn’t stop the sharp cry that left her mouth.

"Liz, what—?" James's voice trailed off, and he gently pulled back from the embrace, staring wide-eyed at his palm, which was covered in blood. "You—you're bleeding," he whispered, looking terrified. He had no idea how he'd missed the large stain on her shirt before; the relief at finding her alive and standing had overpowered all rational thought.

"Yeah," she smiled darkly, "You can say I've—I've been better."

"We need to get you out of here. Wait."

James rushed away, and she sagged against the wall for support, watching as he slowly roused Mary into consciousness, shaking and prodding her. She could not believe how the day had turned out—how bloody lucky they were to have made it alive so far. How bloody lucky _she_ was to have encountered possibly everyone in the castle and not have had her identity revealed.

It was only when her eyelids fluttered open that she realized they’d closed in the first place. Her breath hitched in her throat when she saw Riddle stirring slightly on the floor next to her.

"James," Lily whispered, alarmed.

He was immediately at her side, a now fully-conscious Mary beside him. "What is it?"

"H-he's coming to," she replied. "We need…need to go."

"The other guards must be covering all the exits. We'll never make it out alive from there," Mary said fretfully.

James pulled at his wig in frustration, pacing as he thought. His eyes flickered back to the king every now and then, making sure he was still unconscious, before he turned to look at the two women helplessly.

"Do you know _any_ place in this palace that might not be guarded at the moment?"

Mary's eyes immediately snapped to the princess, bright with realization. Lily nodded.

"There is one," Mary answered. "It's the princess's balcony. It opens to a large garden at the back. I don’t think it’s too heavily guarded at the moment."

"Okay," James nodded, “are the streets visible from that room?”

She nodded with a confused frown. “Yes.”

“And Princess Lily Evans? She won’t cause trouble?”

"Um," Mary had to make a concentrated effort to keep her eyes trained on James. "No, she won’t. The princess isn’t here right now. Gone to visit the—the, uh, Hufflepuff kingdom."

"Okay. Good," He repeated, noticing Liz's deteriorating condition, her slowing breaths. "We don't have time to waste. Come on."

He stepped forward and gently wrapped an arm around Liz’s waist, making sure to avoid her injured spot. "It's okay. I've got you," he assured her as she leaned heavily on him.

Mary slung Liz's other arm over her shoulder, not even having enough courage to look at the girl. Liz's eyes were half-hooded, the entire lower part of her shirt soaked through with blood, and pained whimpers escaped her with each movement. James was rather certain that she could barely sense anything beyond agony, and that scared the living hell out of him.

It cost the three of them a lot of sweat and blood, but somehow— _finally_ —they managed to make their way into the princess's room. At reaching the chamber, James immediately locked the door behind them, settling Liz down on the bed.

"Listen to me," he held her face between his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes. "I'll arrange for some ropes, okay? Are you listening to me? Good—okay, so you have to keep your eyes open at all costs. Keep. Your. Eyes. _Open_. Everything's going to be alright. Nothing's going to happen to you, I promise."

"Liar," she accused, expelling a breathy laugh.

He did not say anything, simply placed a kiss on her temple.

As James left her sight, Lily felt the exhaustion suddenly wash over her. She was tired, _so_ tired. And it would be nice to just close her eyes and forget everything…

"Liz!" Mary's voice jolted her awake. The brunette was staring at her worriedly, a bundle of clothes in her hand. "Please keep your eyes open. Here, I got you these. I’m going to tie them around your wound, and it might…hurt a little. Sorry."

Before Lily could so much as utter a word, Mary was already following through with her promise, tying the cloth around her hip tightly. Lily hissed as the cotton pressed into her injury.

"It'll stop the blood loss," she explained, soothingly pushing Lily’s hair back from her forehead.

Mary then got up and went to the balcony, where James stood, whistling a strange, sharp note that was entirely too cheerful for the situation.

“What are you _doing_?” she hissed, “You’ll alert the guards.”

“Don’t have a choice,” he frowned, “I need them to—oh thank _God._ ” And then he was waving his hands, _signaling_ to someone in the distance. Mary narrowed her eyes, making out two fat men waving back from the streets, seemingly hidden from the view of the guards. She saw them nod in understanding and hurry away.

"The other Marauders?" she asked.

"That's them."

"The whistle is your signal, I presume."

Mary was surprised to find the ghost of a smile on his face when he answered. "It’s not something we had planned to use. But the tune was from a song we hear often at the pubs, and I had to trust that they’d know.”

She thought it was quite the gamble, but didn’t voice the opinion.

"Thank you," she said instead. "For doing this. Y'know, for L-Liz." She caught herself in time.

He simply looked down, did not answer, but Mary understood.

"James!" Lily's voice called from inside after a few seconds, and the two entered the room to hear bangs on the door.

"Oh shit," James cursed under his breath, jogging over to where Mary was supporting Lily up from the bed. "We need to get out of here."

They quickly made their way to the balcony, where, thankfully, they spotted Sirius and Remus entering the garden with ropes. Behind them, two guards were slumped against the palace walls, unconscious.

The group made quick work of the equipment, tying the two ropes that were brought securely to the railings. It was when they were about to climb down that the bedroom door was shoved open.

"Go!" James shouted at the two women. They looked ready to argue, but after receiving a pleading stare from him, they had no choice but to comply.

Lily’s gaze held onto him for a second longer, trying, _trying_ , but failing to get the words out of her mouth, before she started to descend, thinking that the gash on her abdomen could not possibly get any more torturous.

"No! Stop them!" Riddle shouted, Avery and MacNair on his heels.

Both the guards had bruises all over their faces, and MacNair was also sporting a painful welt over his left eye, where James had struck him with a candle holder. As soon the men advanced, James took hold of both the ropes with one hand, and with the other, he slashed through the fiber using his dagger.

There was a quick _zap_ in the air as James fell. He didn't even think—he didn't have to think. They’d be there for him.

And true to his belief, his fall was cushioned by a net of arms.

"What are you waiting for? Jump after them!" Riddle ordered his guards from above, watching with unrestrained anger as the group rushed out of the palace, watching as she disappeared from under his nose _yet again_.

When no response was met with his order, he turned around to see the worthless guards looking at each other with fearful expressions.

"I should have known better than to hire useless pieces of meat like you," he spat. "Those Marauders would have done a better job than you. It's no use following them now either—" He suddenly stopped mid-sentence. After a deliberate pause, he turned around and stared at the kingdom contemplatively. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his lips as realization hit him. "The princess doesn't know what a mistake she has made by joining with the Marauders."

**********

"M-mary," Lily panted, tugging on her friend's hand.

They were now safely hidden in the crowded streets of Gryffindor, where they received more than a few horrified looks. When Mary turned around to look at Lily with an inquisitive expression, the princess, with shaky fingers, pointed somewhere to the left.

As the entire group turned to look at where Lily was pointing, there was a cry of "Mary!" before a small figure barrelled straight into the brunette.

"Rose!" Mary exclaimed, hugging her sister tightly to her chest. The little girl wept loudly, mumbling incomprehensible words that were coated with fear and worry. "Hush, it's okay, Rosie," Mary cooed, patting her back comfortingly. "I'm here. Nothing will happen to you, Mumma, or Mark."

But even as she said so, Mary knew her words were empty, and there was nothing she could do to guarantee her family's safety.

She jolted a little when a hand suddenly fell on her shoulder. Mary turned around, finding Lily looking down at her with a weak smile.

"Take this, Mary," she said, opening her palm to reveal a band of gold with emerald stones. It was the late Queen's ring. "Take this. I know it's not much, but—but you can s-sell it and use the—use the money to start some small shop…" she trailed off, slumping heavily onto Sirius, who was standing beside her.

"No," Mary shook her head, unable to stop the tears from rolling down her face. "No, Li—no, I can't take that. It's your—"

"It's a stolen ring!" Lily said loudly, her voice sharp. " _Please_ , Mary, just—just take it. I can't, I can't—" her words were cut off when Mary stepped forward and pulled her in for a hug. Lily held her tightly, knowing that it was probably the last time she'd be doing so. "Okay," she stepped away, trying to gather her wits. "Now go. Riddle could be sending his guards any m-minute."

"But what about—?"

"Just go, Mary!" Lily cried, pushing the ring into her palm. The cloth around her hip had also turned red by now, and her face was ashen-white.

James watched warily as she swayed on her feet, refusing to give in. The wound needed to be taken care of as soon as possible. Or she would…

"Liz—"

"Goodbye, Mary," Lily wiped her cheek, unable to hear James's voice over her own. "Take care. Thank you for everything. And…and I'll miss you." She ruffled Rose's hair, still leaning against Sirius, who was now looking at her worriedly.

"Liz, we really need to go. That wound—"

"I'm fine," Lily insisted, even though her eyelids had all but closed. "Just a—a little…dizzy.”

Mary bit her lip and nodded. “Goodbye,” she whispered, sniffing.

With a final wave, she turned around and left, Rose's hand clasped in her own. She took a deep breath, willed herself to not look back, and walked towards a new life, determined to remember the kindest person she'd ever known for all of eternity.

Lily watched her best friend—her sister—walk out of her life, and felt a gut-wrenching pain in her heart. She turned her face and cried into Sirius's shoulder. And even though each heave hurt like a new knife-wound, she couldn't stop her sobs. She could have later sworn that she felt Remus—or perhaps it was James—rub soothing circles on her back as she cried, but at that moment, all she felt was numbness. Darkness.

And before she knew it, she was falling, falling, and then everything was silent.

**********

"Oh, thank God. Finally."

Lily fluttered her eyes open, trying to adjust her pupils to the dim light. The first thought that registered in her mind was that she wasn't dead, that there was air in her lungs, thoughts in her head, and that she was very much alive. The next second was when the whirlwind of memories hit her—Mary was gone, Riddle was still on their tail, she was with the Marauders, and her identity was yet to be revealed.

Lily groaned, pressing her fingertips to her head as she sat up.

Or _tried_ to sit up, at least.

"Ow!" she hissed as sudden pain shot through her abdomen. She fell back on what she realized was a mattress, and her hand reached up to the gash on her side, only to find it was neatly bandaged. "What—?" Lily mumbled, her eyes finally shifting to the only other person in the room.

James was standing beside her four-poster bed, arms folded across his chest as he stared down at her amusedly. "Are you quite done yet?" he asked.

"Did you do this?" she threw back, pointing at her bandage.

"I may have," he quipped, smirking.

Lily looked away, feeling uncomfortable and awkward all of a sudden. It was only when she felt James move closer to her side did she lift her eyes again. "Here. I'll help you sit up," he said, voice considerably kinder, pulling up her pillow so that her back was supported against it.

"Where are Sirius and Remus?" Lily asked.

"Downstairs," he replied, sitting down beside her on the bed. "They were very worried about you—you lost a lot of blood. I should probably tell them that you're awake." He handed her a glass of water, but made no move to go and make good on his words. "And…I was worried about you, too."

The glass paused at her lips, and Lily’s eyes slowly traveled back to him. "What?" she croaked, heart beating fast enough to jump out of her throat.

James ran a hand through his hair, and if her eyes were not deceiving her, Lily was positive that there was a red tinge to his cheeks. "I think you know what I mean," he said sincerely, gathering enough courage to look at her again. “That kiss—before we went in—it was not an impulsive decision on my part.”

"I—"

"No, let me finish. Please," he insisted, and Lily could hardly do anything but nod. "I'm so, _so_ sorry for behaving the way I did for the first few days. I don't know what, or why, and I know it's no use apologizing now, but I'm doing it anyway. You did not deserve it, Liz, you did not deserve all that suspicion. I tried to fight myself, fight these feelings, but you made it _impossible_. Every second that I spend around you, I’m constantly being surprised by how incredibly kind you are, by your strength and—and _god_ , I don't even know what I'm saying anymore," he chuckled nervously, hand lifting up to brush her cheek.

Lily swallowed, feeling so horrible and guilty at his wonderful words that she wasn't even aware it was possible to feel this way. She had no right—no bloody _right_. She did not deserve this man, who was so brilliant and sincere, and she could not even tell him what her real _name_ was.

Oh god, what was she doing? “James, I—”

"You really scared me, you know," he cut her off, "I thought—I thought I'd lost you today." His mouth turned down at the corners with the confession.

Lily bit her lip and looked away, because it was too much. Things had somehow gotten so much worse than she could’ve anticipated. All this while, she’d been so busy trying to control her own feelings that she hadn’t even considered how deep James’s emotions for her might’ve run. How utterly selfish of her—how utterly predictable.

She started when the glass was slowly pulled out of her hand, and then James was hooking a finger under her chin, forcing her eyes up to meet his again. There were specks of purple mixed into the whirlpool of gold and green that she hadn't noticed before.

"I guess what I’m trying to say,” he said softly, “Is that I lo—"

"Stop!" Lily jerked away, shaking her head rapidly. "Please, _please_ just—stop. You can't just do that, James! It's not—please don't do this."

"What?" his hand dropped from her face, voice hoarse. "I thought—Liz, what's wrong?"

"What's _wrong_?!" she cried, and could not even be bothered to control her tone. "What's wrong is _everything_! I’m not right for you, James Potter! I’m not good enough!"

"What are you _talking_ about?" he grabbed her shoulders, and Lily was certain that if it wasn't for her injury, he would've shaken her. " _You_ are not good enough for me? God, Liz, do you have any _idea_ —you almost died for your friend! You gained Sirius's trust, you helped Remus come out of his shell, you—you make me a better person! You make everything better!"

"Please," she whispered, dropping her head into her hands, warm tears trickling down her face. "Please don't say that. Please, James—"

"Look at me." His voice was firm, unarguable, and she slowly raised her head.

James shifted closer, and she stopped breathing. _Stop, stop, stop_. Why was he doing this?

He leaned forward, cautious, and rested his forehead against hers, bringing one hand up to cup her cheek lightly. "Talk to me," he said, breath tickling her lips, and Lily just wanted to forget, _forget_ , and close that gap between them, but she couldn't. "It's okay. Just tell me what's wrong, Liz."

"Lily," she gasped, sobbed, closing her eyes as more tears made their way down her face.

James frowned, leaning away slightly in confusion as he looked at her. "What? What’re you talking about?" he asked.

Lily took a deep breath, forced herself to stop crying, and opened her eyes—fierce, bright, but so damn scared because it was _James_.

"My name," she said, "is Lily Catherine Evans. I am the princess of Gryffindor and King Tom Riddle’s niece."


	17. Aftermath

**Deception and Disguise**

**Chapter 17 – Aftermath**

* * *

It was cold.

Her hands were freezing, her insides twisting, and her heart—her heart wasn't even beating. Or perhaps it was beating too fast, it was impossible to tell. She could feel the gash on her side numbing slowly, pain suppressed by fear that was quickly submerging her under its weight.

Why wasn't he saying anything?

Lily felt like she had ripped out her heart from her chest and offered it to this wonderful, brave man in front of her. He held it in the palm of his hand. He could cherish and love it, or he could stab it until there was nothing left. The only thing was, she didn't know what she would do if he chose the latter.

God, the silence was deafening.

"James—"

"Wait," he held up his hand, and Lily flinched. His voice was hoarse—as if he hadn't used it for years—and it sounded so pained that she just _did not want to hear it_. "You—did you just say—”

“I did.”

He looked at her, and the space between them, which had been nothing more than a whisper of a breath a second ago, now felt insurmountable. “If this is a joke, it’s in very poor taste.”

A fist clamped around her heart, ice cold. “I would _never_ joke about something like this.”

“So, what you’re saying then is that you’re _his_ niece?”

Lily sucked in a quick breath, tried to ignore the obvious disgust in his voice, and squared her shoulders. "Yes. Yes, I am," she answered, blinking her eyes rapidly to hold back the brimming tears. "He’s my uncle, and there is nothing I can do to change that. The fact remains that I am related to him by blood, but trust me—there is _nothing_ else in common! That man is foul and evil! I would never do anything or treat anyone like he does!" She reached forward to grab his hand.

But he immediately shrugged off her grip, and a sob hitched in her throat, the hand around her heart now squeezing painfully. "You want me to _trust_ you? After—after so many bloody lies?" Lily's hand fell limply to her lap as he jumped off the bed. "How could you? Didn't you feel sick? We trusted you! _I_ trusted you! I don’t understand why—after everything that happened—were you just pretending all this time? Was I your _plaything_?”

"No!" She cried immediately, standing up as well. She gasped as sudden pain shot through her abdomen, staggering to steady herself. Before her, James clamped his jaw, clenched his hands, and managed to stop himself from moving forward to support her. "No, of course not. How could you even think that? I never—it was never a game for me." Lily was aghast. "It was all real for me, too.”

"Don't." he stopped her, “Just don’t. I cannot trust a word you’re saying right now.”

“James, please, don’t say that,” she rushed forward, unable to keep the desperation from her tone. “I’ve wanted to tell you the truth _so_ many times, you have no idea. It was killing me!”

“And yet you chose to lie,” he said, and the vehemence seemed to suddenly drain out of his body, leaving a defeated man behind. "Why would you do this? You could have told us—told _me_. Just once." His voice cracked on the last word as he looked down at her. " _Why_? Make me understand because I don’t see how you can stand there and ask me to trust you when you’ve clearly done nothing but break it from the beginning. I don’t even know what to believe anymore."

"I had no choice," Lily said softly, eyes trailing to the floor. She could not bear to look at him any longer. "What was I supposed to do? Ever since I arrived here, all of you have had only one opinion on the royalty—you hated them!” She tried swallowing around the painful lump in her throat. “You hated me. Don’t try to deny it, James, you all but told me so that night on the terrace.”

“Well, what the hell did you expect?!” James snapped, “I knew nothing about you! You’ve stayed hidden inside that palace your entire bloody life—hiding away from the cruel realities outside. Did you expect me to applaud someone like that?”

Lily felt like he’d struck her across the face, and her tears fell faster. “I—you don’t understand. It wasn’t like—”

“Oh, I think I know how it was like rather well. It’s easy to turn your back on others when you’re not doomed to such a horrible fate yourself.”

Anger simmered, unbidden, at his words. What did he know about her fate? “Just let me explain—”

"All these years, you had a choice! We didn't," James continued, the venom in his voice cutting her off. "But you didn't stop him—you didn’t do anything at all! You just let him rule. Why?"

"I did not have the _power_ to do anything!" Lily shouted, because, for _god's sake_ , she'd had enough. "You think I enjoyed seeing him destroy people's lives, Potter? You think I liked watching my father's murderer rule over the kingdom while I was forced to sit around quietly? That man ruined my entire life! He took everything away from me! The only thing I had left was my friend—and I couldn’t risk her dying by telling you the truth and having you hate me.”

“I wouldn’t have—”

“Are you certain?” she seethed, “look at what’s happening right now! I know I’ve lied, but you can’t just—you know _nothing_ about my hatred for Riddle or how yours or anyone else’s pales in comparison to mine. You’re right; you don’t know me, so you don’t get to stand there and judge when you clearly don’t even want to understand how I feel. And don't you _dare_ say that I chose not to do anything. I would throw my life away in a heartbeat if it meant I could change things for the better." She gulped in air, chest heaving by the time she’d finished.

James’s eyes had widened, watching the angry flush steal over her skin, but he did not utter a word. Seconds ticked by, silent. After an eternity, he nodded.

Fine, so she'd had a reason to lie, he admitted inwardly. But that didn’t mean that she hadto! He would’ve understood if she had told him the truth. It would have shocked him, yes, but despite what she feared, he knew he’d never have rejected her after—after everything.

"You signed that contract," he said, the spark of that memory pushing bitter words out before he could even register them. "You agreed to marry Prince Lucius Malfoy. I have the goddamned contract to prove it. How does that fit into your idea of trying to stop Riddle? Would you care to share this elaborate plan with a dirt-poor commoner, Your Highness?”

Lily looked at him, eyes flashing, heart breaking. "Please," she whispered. "Please, stop that. I don't want to be a princess—not to you. James, I'm just another person. Just Lily."

Some emotion flitted over his face, but before she could latch onto hope like a fool, he’d shifted his gaze onto the floor. Lily drew in a deep breath, wiped her cheeks, and stepped closer to him, pulse thundering madly. He didn’t look at her again until she was right in front of him.

"Yes, I did sign that contract," she sighed. "But it was another one of Riddle’s tricks; I didn't know what it was about. He’d purposely riled me up so that I wouldn’t read it and—I should have been more careful. But then—"

"We stole the contract," James finished for her. She nodded.

His following exhale was laced with frustration. He paced the room, dragging a hand roughly through his hair. "I can't believe I didn't notice it before," he was muttering to himself. "It was all there. Riddle's unnatural interest in you, your relationship with Mary MacDonald, that ring, your behavior around the guards!" He stopped suddenly, turned to face her, incredulity stretched onto his every feature. "How did I not notice it before?"

"I don't know," Lily shrugged, shifting uncomfortably. She wasn't sure how to behave right now. Was he still angry? He seemed so…distant. And yet, he wasn't shouting at her, nor had he stormed out of the room. She didn’t know what to make of his mercurial mood. "If I’m being honest, I don’t understand how I’ve managed to hide it for so long either.”

"Hide what?"

Both the occupants jumped at the third voice, heads snapping towards the threshold in sync. The other two Marauders stood there, looking on with confusion.

Sirius stepped inside first, taking in their frazzled expressions. "Is everything alright?”

"No. Something's wrong," Remus spoke up from behind him, his blue eyes shifting from James to Lily and then back to James. "What's going on here?"

**********

_Several Hours Ago_

Peter Pettigrew jumped at the sudden bang of a door slamming open. His beady eyes wide and fearful, he turned around to find the king regarding him coolly. The pudgy man gulped, sweat forming on his brow as images of the guard's severed throat flashed through his mind.

"Your Majesty." He bowed quickly, trying to hold in the bile that had risen at the memory.

"Pettigrew," the king greeted back, and the cordial tone of his voice surprised the dealer so much that his head shot up painfully. The black eyes that stared back at him, however, were anything but friendly. There was such malice, such anger in them that it made Peter feel sick anew. He wished to escape—to hide—so that he wouldn't have to face this man _ever_ again. "I'm afraid I must ask a favor of you."

That contemptuous smile left no room for hesitation. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty.”

"You see…I'm looking for someone," Riddle informed casually, walking around Peter as a predator would around his prey. "Someone I'm sure you know."

"Uh, who?"

The king stopped and stood in front of the man, powerful and intimidating. "The Marauders, Pettigrew. I want to know where they are."

Peter felt as if all the air had been drained out of his lungs at those words. _The Marauders?_ He _couldn't_. They were his friends. They helped him. He could not betray them like this. "I'm terribly afraid I don't know who they are, Your Majesty."

"Well, that is a shame," The king sighed mockingly, tracing the hilt of his sword. The image of a dead guard, a bloodied floor, flashed through Peter's mind again. "It is a real shame because I had a handsome reward set aside for your loyalty—a thousand gold pieces." He shook his head sadly.

"A th-thousand?" The beverage dealer could barely believe his own ears. The king nodded, a sneer on his face.

So much gold, Peter thought. So much gold that he would never need to suffer again. Or beg anyone for money. He would be independent, _rich_. The idea was too appealing. Too good. He could—no. _No_ , he wouldn't. He couldn't sell out his friends for wealth and riches.

"Your Majesty, I’m honored by your benevolence, but I truly do not know who they are."

"Do _not_. Lie to me." The king's cold voice sent shivers down his spine. All pretenses were dropped; Peter was greeted with the furious demeanor of King Tom Riddle. His eyes were slits and his face deathly pale. It was like facing hell itself. "I am not a fool. Who do you think you're lying to, you useless piece of filth? Everyone in the kingdom knows the Marauders, and so do you, Pettigrew. Who are they?"

Peter's hands shook. "I-I don't—"

"I _asked_ —" The king enunciated, pulling out his sword and pointing the blade at the quivering man. "Who. Are. They?"

"James Potter!" Peter blurted in fear. His blue eyes immediately widened in shock and he fell to his knees, whimpering. "And Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black."

He felt disgusted with himself—he'd sold them out like a rat. Shakily inhaling a deep breath, Peter looked up, and a part of his guilt morphed into reluctant pride when he noticed the king's satisfied expression. Surely, the Marauders would understand—they’d have to because he'd had no other choice, Peter decided.

"Very good, Pettigrew. I knew you were not completely worthless," Riddle’s lip curled. "However, there is one more thing I need from you." Peter looked up in confusion. "Do you know of any girl who stays with the Marauders? Green eyes, red hair?"

"The pr-princess?" He squeaked. To be honest, he had no idea why he'd been keeping her secret for so long. Sure, she had seemed nice, but in hindsight, he should have known that she would only lead him to trouble. And if he'd already given away the names of the Marauders, he might as well tell hers. _She_ was the one to be blamed for the situation, after all, not him.

"Ah, so you _do_ know her." The king's eyes gleamed. He was impressed. Peter nodded wordlessly. "And do you know where they are?"

Peter gulped. Maybe this was a bit too much. "Why?"

" _Why_?" The king mocked him, raising his eyebrows. "Because I want to pay them a visit, of course. Don't worry about that, Pettigrew. Just tell me where they live, and I will reward you as promised."

The blond man licked his lips at the thought. What could he do? He couldn't _not_ answer—the king would kill him in a flash. And besides, the allure of riches was too much. The Marauders would have done the same, he concluded as he looked up at the king. Yes, they would have done the same if they had been in his place. He couldn't be blamed. No, no he couldn't.

"They live in Godric's Hollow."

**********

_Present_

"…and then I found you," Lily finished her narration, looking up at the three men in front of her with wary eyes and a blotchy face. "I knew it was wrong, it was _so_ wrong, and I felt awful the whole time, but—but I didn't know what to do! I'm sorry! I'm _so_ sorry," she gasped, dropping her head into her hands.

Sirius was speechless. Liz—no, _Lily_ —was royalty? He couldn't wrap his head around the fact. She had lied, and probably the entire time. Yet, somehow, he couldn't bring himself to hate her for it. He knew what it was like; that darkness of not having any friends—of having people hate you as soon as your name was uttered. He realized he couldn’t really hate her for the deception. She didn't even know him, or James, or Remus when they'd met. It was natural for her to want to be accepted. He understood her fear of instant rejection. And while he wished that she’d opened up to them sooner, Sirius was the last person who would spit at her for choosing to put her friend’s safety over her own conscience.

Before he was even aware of it, his feet had carried him over to her crying form. "Chin up, love," he said gently, tugging away her hands from her face and waiting until she looked up. He smiled. "It's okay. I understand. You did what you had to do, and I think no lesser of you for it."

With a strangled sob, Lily launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and crying into his shoulder. Sirius stumbled back a little from the collision, but quickly steadied them both. "I'm s-so sorry, Sirius! I never meant to—"

"Hush, I know," he soothed her softly. "Don't punish yourself, Evans. You had no other choice. I'm not mad at you."

The girl slowly pulled back, looking at him with hopeful surprise. "You—you're not?" she sniffed. "But I—"

"Lied to us?" Remus offered, walking towards the pair. Lily flushed scarlet even as she nodded. "Well, yes, you did, but I don't think I can blame you for that either. It would be quite hypocritical of us, to be honest. I think I’ve lied more times in my life than I care to remember.”

She bit her lip, feeling something heavy settle around her chest. “It’s not the same thing. You have been nothing but honest and kind to me from the beginning.”

“ _Well_ ,” he seemed to chew around his words, “that’s because we didn’t have as much to lose. We relied on our instincts to trust you because we knew the secret was safe with you. And as far as I've seen, you haven’t let us down, Liz—er, Lily—um, what do I call you?" he scratched his head.

An unexpected huff of laugh escaped her. "Just Lily."

Remus grinned. "Right. Lily. Well, as I was saying, you’ve never let us down, and I think you're a wonderful person. You don’t deserve any of our hatred just because you lied about your _name_ , or because of your relations." He shrugged. "So, I'm not mad at you either."

Lily could hardly believe her ears. After all the lies she had fed them, they were still accepting her with open arms, just as kind and supportive as they’d always been. She was now more certain than ever that she could have been honest with them from the very beginning and they would have never turned their backs on her. But that chance was gone, and she’d take what she could get now.

“Thank you,” she whispered, stepping forward and giving Remus a warm hug.

"James?" Sirius prompted the last Marauder.

Lily, with her heart in her mouth, looked up into hazel eyes that refused to reveal anything. She watched as he watched _her_ , his gaze intense and unwavering, making her feel extremely conscious of her every move. He slowly made his way towards them, never once looking away. Once he was directly in front of her, she bit the inside of her cheek nervously.

"I'm sorry," she apologized again. “I hope you can forgive me, but if not—I will understand and leave immediately.”

"I—"

_BANG_

All the occupants in the room jumped at the thundering noise, their eyes wide and surprised as they stared at the room's closed door.

"What was that?" Remus whispered, alarmed.

"I'll go see," James said, wrenching open the door and walking out. Sirius and Remus followed him, leaving Lily with apprehension hanging over her.

As the trio made their way down the stairs, they were met with a horrific scene: royal guards, _everywhere_. There were about fifteen of them, each carrying a long, sharp sword. They were scouring the house viciously, and it was only seconds before one of them noticed the three men rooted at the foot of the stairs.

"THERE!" He shouted, advancing angrily.

"Shit!" Sirius cursed, quickly dodging the weapon in time by ducking. He noticed James pull out his dagger from his peripheral vision, and Remus strike a blow to the guard who had attacked him. The man fell to the floor, and Sirius grabbed his sword just in time to parry another blow. The metal blades clanged loudly and he felt the vibrations ring throughout his whole body.

James, noticing a guard heading towards Remus with his sword, deftly moved his friend out of the way and slashed the blade of his dagger against the attacker's shoulder. The man cried out in pain, clutching his wound as he dropped to the floor.

"Thanks," Remus shouted, breathless. James nodded, unable to form any words for he was forced to engage in another fight immediately.

Amidst all the cacophony and chaos, Anthony Avery stealthily made his way up the stairs.

He _had_ to find her.

**********

Lily's feet were quick and frantic as she hurried out of the room. She could make out the sounds of clashing swords that filled the entire house. Her heart thudded as fear gripped her insides, hoping that nothing bad had happened and that all three of them were okay. 

_Please please please_

"Oof!" The air was knocked out of her lungs as a large figure roughly bumped into her. The force of the collision sent her sprawling to the floor, and Lily gasped as the injury on her side stung warningly. At this rate, her stitches would easily rip. She winced, tears springing to her eyes as she looked up at the person in front of her.

It was one of the guards. Avery, if she was not mistaken.

"Your Highness," he bowed mockingly. "I'm afraid I must ask you to come with me to the castle. The king's explicit orders, you see." He held out his hand to her, sneering.

Lily stared up at the man, disgusted. Did these people have no compassion? Fisting her hands angrily, she used her leg to swiftly kick the guard's shin. Hard.

Avery howled, cursing loudly as he staggered around in pain, giving Lily enough time to stand up. She quickly ran to the stairs, panting harshly as she tried to catch her breath. It was only seconds before she found herself facing what had turned into a hideous battlefield. Panic settling into her heart, her eyes quickly scanned the room for three familiar faces.

James was engaged in a fight with two guards at once, his demeanor fierce and unrelenting. She watched as he used his silver-handled dagger to deftly slash a cut across a guard's palm. She averted her eyes when the man howled, blood gushing out. Remus was just as quick on his feet, effectively using the sword in his hands to fend off guards as they kept advancing on him. Sirius, on the other hand, had all but given up on weapons, instead choosing to get into fist-fights. He had acquired a small cut on his cheek, but otherwise seemed fine as he continued beating a guard black and blue.

Lily felt herself sag in relief. They were okay.

"Wha—" She suddenly gasped, feeling a cool, sharp metal pressed right against her throat. Her emerald eyes, wide and afraid, darted from one side to another as she tried to look at the man who tightly held her hands against her back to prevent movement.

"Drop your weapons, Marauders!" Avery shouted from behind. Lily closed her eyes, shame and helplessness at getting caught overpowering her senses. "Surrender! Or I will kill her."

Lily opened her eyes and watched with trepidation as the Marauders exchanged looks of complete panic. 

_No_ , she thought desperately. _No, they couldn't risk their lives for her! Not again!_

Her eyes caught James's across the room, and she saw him look back at her with an unidentifiable emotion. Slowly, she shook her head at him, choking back a sob. He broke away his gaze almost immediately.

"Fine, kill her then," James said bluntly, and there wasn't a single soul in the entire room who didn't turn to look at him in shock.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave me reviews (they mean a lot) and come chat with me on Tumblr @maraudersftw


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